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AUTHOR: 


DE  LAGUNA,  THEODORE 
DELEO 


TITLE: 


DOGMATISM  AND 
EVOLUTION 

PLACE: 

NEW  YORK 

DA  TE : 

1910 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARIES 
PRESERVATION  DEPARTMENT 

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Master  Negative  # 


Original  Material  as  Filmed  -  FvisHnfr  Bibliographic  Recorj 


149. 9 
LIS 


De  Laguna,  Theodore  de  Leo  187&-  hilosophy,  by 

Dogmatism  and  «'«1"^^«"' J^oJace  A^ndrus  Dc  Laguna  ... 

Theodore  De  I^-g"°^;,;  "ipanT  1910. 
New  York,  The  MacmiUan  company, 

T,  259  p.    22i«". 


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10-23638  Revised 


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DOGMATISM  AND  EVOLUTION 


STUDIES  IN  MODERN  PHILOSOPHY 


BY 


THEODORE   DE  LAGUNA,  Ph.D. 

PROFESSOR  OF  PHILOSOPHY  IN  BRYN  MAWK  COLLEGE 


AND 


! 


GRACE  ANDRUS   DE  LAGUNA,  Ph.D. 


Vi 


TSTeto  Yortt 
THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1910 


k^il 


t 

V 


Copyright,  1 910, 
By  Theodore  de  Laguna 

II  -2-52.7 


Press  of 

The  New  era  printins  Company 

Lancaster.  Pa. 


PREFACE. 

The  term  'dogmatism'  is  here  used  to  denote  the  body  of  logical 
assumptions  which  were  generally  made  by  thinkers  of  all  schools, 
before  the  rise  of  theories  of  social  and  organic  evolution.  Its 
application  is  therefore  wider  than  common  usage  would  warrant. 
The  empiricism  of  Berkeley  and  Hume,  as  well  as  the  rationalism 
of  Descartes  and  Leibniz,  is  included  in  its  scope.  The  first 
part  of  the  present  work  is  devoted  to  the  analysis  and  illustration 
of  the  dogmatic  principles.  In  the  later  parts  we  have  examined 
some  of  the  philosophies  by  which  dogmatism  has,  upon  one 
side  or  another,  been  assailed:  the  critical  philosophy,  absolute 
idealism,  and,  at  much  greater  length,  pragmatism. 

It  is  to  an  excursion  over  well-traveled  roads  that  the  reader 
is  invited.  A  glance  over  the  pages  will  show  them  to  be  fairly 
sprinkled  with  the  great  names — Bacon,  Hobbes,  Descartes, 
Spinoza,  Leibniz,  Locke,  Berkeley,  Hume,  Kant,  Hegel,  Mill, 
James — while  few  others  are  mentioned  except  in  passing.  In 
a  history  this  would  be  a  sore  defect.  But  our  object  was  not 
history,  but  the  critical  analysis  of  principles;  and  this  required 
the  confinement  of  the  discussion  to  a  comparatively  few  systems 
that  would  be  recognized  as  typical. 

While  these  pages  were  in  press,  William  James  passed  away. 
The  debt  which  we,  in  common  with  all  of  the  younger  American 
thinkers,  owe  to  him  cannot  be  measured — unless,  perhaps,  by 
the  very  eagerness  with  which  we  have  upon  many  points  at- 
tacked him.  With  the  other  leader  of  the  American  pragmatists, 
Professor  John  Dewey,  we  stand  in  a  much  closer  sympathy. 
We  say  this  here,  because  the  hostile  criticism  which  we  have 
passed  upon  his  theory  of  immediate  empiricism  ought  not  to 
disguise  our  direct  indebtedness  to  him  upon  other  lines.  To 
Mr.  Schiller  no  direct  reference  has  been  made,  but  certain  of 

his  characteristic  positions  are  noticed  in  Appendix  I. 

iii 


i\ 


-v^g^f^^ammi 


IV 


PREFACE. 


These  studies  make  little  claim  to  systematic  unity.  Unity 
of  a  certain  sort,  indeed,  they  will  be  found  to  possess,  namely, 
unity  of  purpose  and  of  point  of  view,  but  not  that  of  the  mono- 
graph or  treatise.  There  is  one  omission,  however,  which  we 
especially  regret.  After  considerable  prominence  is  given  to  the 
theory  of  relations  in  the  first  and  second  parts,  the  subject  is 
only  incidentally  treated  in  the  third.  But  one  of  the  writers 
having  been  forced  to  withdraw  from  the  work,  the  attempt  to 
supply  this  omission  would  have  meant  the  indefinite  postpone- 
ment of  publication. 

The  book  is  the  product  of  a  genuine  collaboration.     Some 

division  of  labor  was  necessary  at  the  outset ;  but  almost  endless 

discussion,  together  with  repeated  revision  by  both  writers,  has 

made  the  work  in  a  peculiar  sense  our  common  property. 

Bryn  Mawr  College, 
September  12,  1910. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

PART   I.     The  Old  Dogmatism 

CHAPTER  I      Universal   Mathematics  versus   Universal  Psychology.      3 

CHAPTER  n     The  Common  Basis  of  Empiricism  and  Rationalism — I. 

The  Certainty  of  Immediate  Experience 16 

CHAPTER  ni  The  Common  Basis  of  Empiricism  and  Rationalism — II. 

The  Simplicity  of  Elements  and  the  Externality  of 
Relations 30 

CHAPTER  IV   The  Representative  Theory  of  Ideas 54 

PART   II.     Revolution  and  Reaction 

CHAPTER  I      The  Critical  Philosophy 67 

CHAPTER  II     Absolute  Idealism 86 

PART   III.     The  Pragmatist  Revolt 

CHAPTER  I      The  Principles  of  Pragmatism 117 

CHAPTER  II    Examination  of  the  Principles  135 

CHAPTER  III  The   Developing   Concept  and    its  Functions — I.  The 

Concept  of  the  Object 162 

EXCURSUS  ON  J.  S.  Mill's  Theory  of  Objectivity.  . .  173 
CHAPTER  IV    The  Developing  Concept  and  its  Functions — II.  The 

General  Concept 188 

CHAPTER  V    Pragmatism  and  the  Form  of  Thought 202 

APPENDICES 

I  The    Pragmatic   Method,  The  Will-to-believe,  Humanism,  and  Im- 

mediatism 219 

II  The  Practical  Character  of  Reality 235 


PART  I 
THE  OLD  DOGMATISM 


2 


CHAPTER   I 


UNIVERSAL   MATHEMATICS    VERSUS  UNIVERSAL   PSYCHOLOGY 

Had  Lord  Bacon  known  that  in  the  century  following  the 
publication  of  the  Advancement  of  Learning  no  school  of  philoso- 
phers would  acknowledge  him  as  master,  he  would  not  have  been 
seriously  disheartened  at  the  prospect.  Splendid  as  was  the  am- 
bition of  the  scholar  who  chose  all  knowledge  for  his  province, 
that  ambition  did  not  include  the  founding  of  a  school.  In  truth, 
to  his  mind  such  an  accomplishment  seemed  so  slight,  and  the 
distinction  it  won  so  petty,  that  he  was  content  to  leave  it  to 
ingenious  but  narrow-minded  men.  What  he  wished  to  found 
was  not  a  school  of  philosophy,  but  philosophy  itself — or  science, 
if  you  please,  for  in  his  day  the  two  terms  were  still  synonymous. 
But  had  he  known  that  by  far  the  most  important  movement  of 
thought  during  the  next  three  generations  was  to  be  in  direct  and 
conscious  opposition  to  his  most  cherished  principles — in  England 
as  a  reaction  against  his  influence,  on  the  continent  in  contemptu- 
ous disregard  of  him — only  a  sublime  faith  in  their  truth  could 
have  saved  him  from  utter  discouragement.  Writing  in  1739, 
the  young  David  Hume  comments  upon  the  fact,  that  the  whole 
period  of  the  pre-Socratic  philosophy  in  Greece  was  "nearly  equal 
to  that  betwixt  my  Lord  Bacon  and  some  late  philosophers  of 
England,  who  have  begun  to  put  the  science  of  man  on  a  new  foot- 
ing.'* Yet  the  institution  of  a  body  of  experimental  "sciences 
of  man"  was  the  part  of  Bacon's  program  that  was  nearest  his 
heart,  and  that  he  himself  did  most  to  forward. 

The  phenomenon  is  certainly  a  striking  one.  Bacon  had 
taught  that  deduction,  as  a  scientific  method,  was  useful  only 
for  purposes  of  instruction,  and  even  so  was  better  fitted  to  pro- 
duce a  showy  than  a  real  and  thorough  knowledge;  and  that 
for  the  discovery  and  establishment  of  truth  induction  and  ex- 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


periment  were  all-important.     The  great  rationalists  of  the  seven- 
teenth century— Hobbes,  Descartes,  Spinoza,  and   Leibniz,  for 
example — however  great  their  differences  in  detail,  were  agreed 
upon  the  general  point,  that  deduction  is  the  sole  ultimately 
satisfactory  mode  of  proof;  that  experimental  methods  are  wholly 
subordinate  devices,  which  may,  indeed,  be  indispensable  in  the 
course  of  a  complex  investigation,  but  which  the  completed  theory 
must  in  every  case  cast  aside.     Bacon  had  taught  that  science 
must  begin  with  particulars,  rising  by  successive  inductions  to 
more  and  more  general  laws,  and  arriving  at  its  supreme  ex- 
planatory principles  only  at  the  last  stage  of  its  endeavors.     Ac- 
cording to  the  rationalists,  that  whole  ascent  is  a  mere  preliminary 
to  the  task  of  science;  science  itself  begins  with  secure  first  prin- 
ciples, and  its  problem  is  the  explanation  of  the  more  particular 
laws  of  nature  as  necessary  consequences  of  the  first  principles. 
Finally,  whereas  the  rationalists  one  and  all  regarded  precise 
definition  and  the  consistent  use  of  terms  as  prime  necessities  for 
scientific  discussion,  and  counted  upon  these  as  most  potent  aids 
to  the  discovery  of  truth,  the  great  chancellor  held  that  the  estab- 
lishment of  definitions  belongs  not  to  the  beginnings  of  science 
but  to  its  consummation,  and  that  in  the  meantime  the  effort  at 
verbal  consistency  is  only  too  apt  to  issue  in  self-deception. 

It  would  be  beyond  our  present  purpose  to  attempt  a  complete 
explanation  of  this  phenomenon — the  temporary  unsuccess  of 
Bacon's  polemic.  It  has  been  customary  to  attribute  it  in  great 
measure  to  personal  defects  in  him ;  especially  to  a  lack  of  plod- 
ding thoroughness,  that  made  his  brilliant  suggestions  mere  sug- 
gestions, and  left  his  programs  of  scientific  advancement  un- 
supported by  actual  solid  contributions  to  knowledge.  Two 
other  causes  were  probably  more  important.  The  first  of  these 
was  the  silent  influence  of  Aristotle.  It  is  true  that  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  it  was  not  the  fashion  to  refer  to  Aristotle  except 
for  the  purpose  of  emphasizing  one's  disagreement  with  him  and 
one's  contempt  for  his  authority.  But  "he  who  flees  is  not  yet 
free" ;  and  never  did  the  perennial  vigor  of  the  ancient  rationalism 


MATHEMATICS    VERSUS  PSYCHOLOGY 


show  itself  more  clearly  than  in  the  control  which  it  exerted  over 
the  development  of  rationalism  in  the  seventeenth  century. 
A  good  part  of  Hobbes's  Compulation,  or  Logic  is  scarcely  more 
than  a  simplified  restatement  of  the  leading  principles  of  Aris- 
totle's methodology,  in  terms  of  the  already  traditional  English 
nominalism,  and  not  improbably  profited  by  some  study  of  the 
Greek  original.  In  the  case  of  the  continental  rationalists,  the 
dependence  is  generally  more  indirect — through  the  continued 
prevalence  of  conceptions  inherited  from  scholasticism — but  not 
less  evident.  The  opening  paragraphs  of  Descartes's  Discourse 
on  Method  afford  a  singular  illustration  of  this.  He  is  inclined 
to  think  that  the  intellectual  differences  between  men  cannot 
have  to  do  with  their  reason,  because  that  faculty  is  the  distin- 
guishing characteristic  of  the  human  species,  which  completes 
its  definition,  and  consequently  must  be  present  equally  in  all 
members  of  the  species.  From  this  one  fossil  vestige,  well-nigh 
the  whole  skeleton  of  the  classical  logic  might  be  safely  recon- 
structed. * 

The  other  influence  to  which  we  referred  was  that  of  the 
mathematical  sciences,  and  especially  of  the  geometry  of  Euclid. 
It  is  difficult  for  us  today  to  realize  what  the  possession  of  this 
work  meant  to  the  thinkers  of  the  later  renaissance.  To  these 
pioneers  of  modern  science  it  was  the  very  image  of  all  that  they 
hoped  to  do,  and,  more  than  that,  an  unquestionable  guarantee 
of  the  competence  of  the  human  mind  to  solve  the  riddles  of  the 
universe.  While  physics  and  physiology  were  still  the  sport  of 
vain  and  conflicting  theories,  here,  at  least,  was  a  science.  With 
all  of  the  unfounded  pretensions  and  lamentable  failures  of  the 
Greeks,  so  much  they  had  accomplished.  This  was  their  great 
bequest  to  the  modern  world.  Accordingly  we  can  understand 
that  in  the  seventeenth  century  the  hope  of  a  science  meant  the 
hope  of  a  new  geometry.  Whatever  modern  methods,  experi- 
mental or  analytical,  might  be  employed  in  its  construction,  the 
finished  product  was  to  be  of  the  one  uniform  type. 

How  was  this  type  understood?     In  the  most  natural  and 


O  DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 

perfectly  obvious  fashion.    At  its  basis  were  conceived  to  be  a 
certain  number  of  indemonstrable  but  self-evident  propositions, 
involving  a  certain  number  of  indefinable  but  self-explanatory 
terms.     Resting  upon  this  basis  were  series  of  propositions  of 
ever  narrowing  generality  and  increasing  complexity.     The  truth 
^  of  the  later  propositions  was  supposed  to  result  from,  and  to  be 
guaranteed  by,  that  of  the  earlier  propositions,  without  giving 
to  these  any  reciprocal  support.     It  seems  to  have  been  popularly 
supposed  that  the  order  in  which  the  propositions  followed  upon 
one  another  was  quite  fixed,  or  admitted,  at  any  rate,  of  no  radical 
alteration;  and,  although,  of  course,  mathematicians  were  well 
aware  that  this  was  not  the  case,  they  were  nevertheless  inclined 
to  think  that  one  order  alone  could  represent  with  perfect  clear- 
ness the  exact  interrelations  of  the  concepts  involved,  and  that 
all  others  were  therefore  open  to  ultimate  logical  criticism.     The 
discovery  of  this  ideal  order  was  therefore  regarded  as  a  very 
great  desideratum. 

The  influence  of  mathematical  conceptions  upon  philosophy 
was  due  jn  part  to  the  fact  that  two  of  the  great  rationalists, 
Descartes  and  Leibniz,  were  among  the  founders  of  modern  math- 
ematical science,  and  that  many  lesser  members  of  the  school 
were  competent  mathematicians.     With  Descartes,  indeed,  whose 
system  was  the  point  of  departure  for  the  whole  movement,  the 
philosophy  was  the  result  of  a  deliberate  attempt  at  an  extension 
of  the  mathematics.     Inspired  by  his  success  in  developing  the 
great  discovery  of  his  early  manhood— the  application  of  alge- 
braic   analysis    to    the   solution    of   geometrical    problems— he 
thought  to  apply  a  similar  analysis  to  the  fundamental  problems 
of  all  departments  of  science.     Had  Descartes  lived  a  little  earlier, 
Bacon  would  surely  have  cited  his  system  as  the  superlative' 
instance  in  all  history,  of  the  Idol  of  the  Cave.     After  telling  us 
how  Aristotle,  when  he  had  discovered  and  classified  the  various 
forms  of  demonstration,  was  thenceforth  driven  to  interpret  all 
the  phenomena  of  nature  and  society  in  terms  of  this  new  logic; 
and  after  taking  his  fling  at  his  countr>^man  Gilbert,  who  had 


MATHEMATICS    VERSUS  PSYCHOLOGY  7 

pondered  for  years  over  a  magnet,  until  he  saw  magnetism  every- 
where and  in  everything;  he  would  have  capped  the  climax  with 
the  inventor  of  analytical  geometry  and  author  of  the  Discourse 

on  Method. 

But  rationalists  who  were  by  no  means  distinguished  as  mathe- 
maticians were  scarcely,  if  at  all,  less  under  the  influence  of 
mathematical  conceptions.  The  most  obvious  example  is  Spi- 
noza, composing  his  Ethics  in '  'geometrical  order/'  and  illustrating 
the  invariability  of  natural  causation  by  the  necessity  with  which 
the  idea  of  a  triangle  implies  that  the  sum  of  its  angles  is  two 
right  angles.  Hobbes,  too,  who  was  so  far  from  competence  in 
geometry  that  he  is  remembered  in  its  history  only  as  the  most  fat- 
uous of  circle-squarers,  must  nevertheless  be  said  to  have  owed  the 
first  flush  of  his  enthusiasm  for  science,  as  well  as  his  first  clear 
conceptions  of  scientific  method,  to  a  copy  of  Euclid's  Elements, 
On  the  other  hand,  Leibniz,  the  greatest  mathematician  of  the 
whole  group,  was  not  least  a  slave  to  mathematical  notions, 
though  in  various  directions  he  strained  these  notions  to  their 
breaking-point.  His  writings  are,  indeed,  remarkable  for  their 
constant  use  of  principles  which  in  their  manifest  implications 
far  transcend  the  rationalistic  standpoint.  More  than  any  other 
modern  philosopher— except  perhaps  Bacon— he  was  a  man  of 
the  world  with  the  most  far-reaching  social  and  political  interests. 
Yet  his  logical  theory  remained  mathematical  to  the  core,  though 
the  uses  to  which  he  endeavored  to  put  it  were  strikingly,  nay 
absurdly,  concrete.  Thus,  for  example,  he  was  not  above  en- 
forcing a  practical  social  optimism  by  a  reference  to  the  law  of  the 
parallelogram  of  forces.  That  this  is  the  best  of  possible  worlds 
might  be  seen  in  the  fact,  that  every  change  that  takes  place  in 
the  world  comes  about  with  the  least  possible  expenditure  of 
energy;  so  that,  considering  the  state  of  affairs  at  each  moment 
of  the  world's  history,  as  much  as  possible  is  always  happening! 


We  have  mentioned  several  dogmas  upon  which  all  the  great 
rationalists  are  found  to  be  united.     The  essential  point  is  prob- 


8 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


h 


ably  this:  that  science  (or  philosophy)  consists  wholly  of  univer- 
sal and  necessary  propositions,  a  limited  number  of  which  are 
self-evident  and  form  a  sufficient  body  of  premises  for  the  deduc- 
tion of  the  rest.     The  principal  division  between  rationalists  is 
upon  the  question  of  the  nature  of  the  self-evident  first  principles. 
For  Hobbes  (as  a  nominalist),  these  could  be  only  arbitrary 
definitions  of  terms  to  be  employed.     For  the  great  mass  of  con- 
tinental rationalists,  they  are  significant  truths  which  are  cog- 
nized by  a  special  faculty  of  reason  called  'intuition.'     For  Leib- 
niz, they  are  again  definitions;  not  of  mere  terms,  however,  but 
of  concepts.     All,  again,  are  agreed  in  declaring  that  observations 
of  matter  of  fact  are  invariably  particular  and  contingent ;  and 
furthermore  that  whereas  universal  propositions  are  conditional 
in  their  import,^  particular  propositions  are  categorical  and,  as 
such,  existential— i.  e.,  imply  the  existence  of  their  subjects. 
Accordingly,  the  whole  realm  of  truth  is  divided  into  two  distinct 
provinces,  that  of  reason  and  that  of  sense-perception,  the  former 
consisting  of  necessary  implications,  the  latter  of  observed  facts. 
All  rationalists  are  further  agreed  upon  certain  metaphysical 
conclusions.     If  science  is  deductive,  the  world  must  be  such  as 
to  be  knowable  by  means  of  deductive  science.     If  knowledge  is 
to  fall  into  series  of  logically  consecutive  propositions,  the  world 
itself  must  be  similarly  ordered.     As  Spinoza  puts  it,  the  order 
of  thoughts  and  the  order  of  things  are  the  same.     In  other  words, 
the  relation  of  premise  to  conclusion  in  the  system  of  scientific 
doctrine  must  everywhere  exactly  correspond  to  a  relation  of 
cause  and  effect  in  the  system  of  objective  reality.     From  the 
methodological  standpoint,  this  means  that  all  explanation  or 
proof  of  anything  must  be  in  terms  of  its  causes— knowledge  of 
its  effects  throws  no  light  upon  its  nature  at  all.2    The  intuitional- 
ists  (or  rationalists  proper,  as  we  may  call  them)  proceed  to  a 

iThus  Hobbes  maintains  that  political  science  (like  geometry)  is  altogether 
independent  of  the  question,  whether  any  such  thing  as  a  state  (or  a  straight  line) 
has  ever  existed  in  the  world  or  not. 

'The  reasoning  from  effects  to  causes,  which  Hobbes  includes  in  his  definition 
of  philosophy,  is  only  an  apparent  exception;  for  such  reasoning,  he  finds,  is  never 
conclusive. 


MATHEMATICS    VERSUS  PSYCHOLOGY  9 

further  inference,  in  which  it  may  be  difficult  for  us  to  follow 
them;  namely,  that  the  relations  just  described  as  everywhere 
parallel  are  in  fact  identical.  The  necessity  with  which  the  cause 
produces  its  effect  means  that  a  mind  possessed  of  complete 
knowledge  of  the  former  must  be  able  to  predict  the  latter,  that 
is  to  say,  deduce  it  from  the  cause  as  premise.  Thus  the  funda- 
mental nature  of  the  circle,  conceived  as  produced  by  a  rotating 
line,  is  the  cause  of  all  its  other  properties — for  example,  of  the 
fact  that  every  radius  is  perpendicular  to  the  tangent  at  its 
extremity.  From  this  extreme  form  of  the  doctrine,  Hobbes  is 
saved  by  his  nominalism ;  while  Leibniz  is  distinguished  by  his 
'principle  of  sufficient  reason,'  according  to  which  the  determi- 
nation of  an  effect  involves  not  only  logical  necessity  but  the 
selection  of  the  best  out  of  an  infinite  number  of  logically  pos- 
sible alternatives. 

The  keystone  of  continental  rationalism  is  the  doctrine  of 
substance.  While  the  provinces  of  reason  and  sense-perception 
are  wholly  distinct,  a  certain  connection  arises  from  the  obvious 
consideration,  that  when  a  fact  is  attested  by  perception  a  number 
of  consequences  may  logically  follow  from  it.  Indeed,  every 
observed  fact,  no  matter  how  irrelevant  it  may  appear  from  the 
standpoint  of  pure  science,  is  known  by  the  law  of  causality  to  be 
absolutely  determined  by,  and  thus  deducible  from,  a  series  of 
previous  facts.  Unless,  then,  some  one  or  more  facts  could  be 
conceived  as  eternally  necessary  on  their  own  account,  and  thus 
as  serving  to  support  all  other  facts,  the  whole  chain  of  facts, 
taken  in  its  entirety,  must  be  thought  of  as  hanging  in  mid-air — 
which  appeared  to  be  inconceivable.  Such  necessary  fact  or 
facts  could,  however,  be  attested  by  no  act  of  perception;  the 
only  adequate  witness  is  reason  itself.  The  entity  whose  exist- 
ence is  implied  in  any  such  eternal  fact  is  called  a  substance;  and 
those  philosophers  who  believe  in  the  existence  of  but  a  single 
substance  call  it  God.  In  the  nominalistic  theory  this  entity  is 
an  unknowable,  to  which,  however,  the  name  of  God  is  also  given. 
Those,  too,  who  accept  the  existence  of  a  plurality  of  substances, 


lO 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


MATHEMATICS    VERSUS  PSYCHOLOGY 


II 


regard  one  of  these  as  supreme,  the  others  being  substantial  only 
m  a  secondary  sense,  as  dependent  for  their  existence  on  the 
supreme  substance,  or  God,  alone.  Thus  the  existence  of  God 
has  a  unique  place  in  the  rationalistic  scheme  of  things  It 
belongs,  in  a  way,  to  both  kinds  of  truth.  It  is  a  fact  evident  to 
reason,  and  the  necessary  presupposition  of  all  other  facts. 

The  development  of  rationalism  in  the  seventeenth  century 
was  followed  by  an  equally  brilliant  development  of  empiricism 
in  the  first  half  of  the  eighteenth  century.     Bacon  at  last  came 
into  his  own.     The  movement  is  commonly  regarded  as  dating 
from  the  publication  of  Locke's  Essay  concerning  Human  Under- 
standing  in  1690.     Against  the  common  view  it  has  been  urged 
with  much  force  that  Locke  was  at  least  as  much  a  rationalist  as 
an  empiricist;  and,  indeed,  his  direct  debt  seems  to  be  far  greater 
to  Descartes  and  Hobbes  than  to  Bacon.     His  theory  of  mathe- 
matics  and  ethics  is  strongly  rationalistic.     He  believes  these 
sciences  are  concerned  wholly  with  the  relations  between  ideas 
m  our  own  minds,  and  are  in  need  of  no  confirmation  from  experi- 
ence.    The  ideas  of  which  they  treat  are  arbitrarily  put  together 
by  us;  and  the  principal  caution  which  we  must  observe  in  their 
manipulation  is  to  define  accurately  and  use  consistently  the 
terms  by  which  we  choose  to  denote  them.     Locke  therefore 
accepts   the  distinction   between   intuitive  and   demonstrative 
truths  on  the  one  hand  and  inductive  probabilities  on  the  other 
and  maintains  that  the  latter  can  never  through  any  process  of 
experience  be  raised  to  complete  certainty.     He  believes,  for 
example,  that  the  existence  of  each  one  of  us  is  intuitively  certain 
to  himself,  and  that  the  existence  of  God  is  demonstrably  certain  • 
while  the  existence  of  other  persons  and  things  can  only  be  morally 
certain,  that  is  to  say,  true  enough  for  all  practical  purposes. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  two  peculiarities  in  Locke's 
doctrine  which  were  very  important  for  the  future  development 
of  empiricism.  In  the  first  place,  he  attacked  one  of  the  most 
central  positions  of  rationalism  by  maintaining  that  all  our  ideas 


of  substances,  whether  material  or  spiritual,  finite  or  infinite, 
are  inadequate — i.  e.,  fail  to  correspond  accurately  to  their  ob- 
jects. In  the  second  place,  his  theory  of  intuition  differed  from 
that  of  the  rationalists  in  a  way  which  brought  into  prominence 
a  new  problem  for  science.  According  to  the  rationalists,  the 
intuitive  truth  presents  itself  to  reason  as  a  whole, — subject, 
predicate,  and  all.  According  to  Locke,  the  ideas  involved  in 
such  a  truth  must,  like  all  other  ideas,  be  originally  derived  from 
experience,  however  they  may  have  since  been  modified  by  proc- 
esses of  abstraction  and  composition;  all  that  intuition  gives 
is  the  connection  between  them.  Locke  was  thus  led  to  under- 
take to  show  in  detail  how  various  ideas  and  classes  of  ideas — 
especially  those  which  had  been  generally  regarded  as  intuitive- 
are  indeed  derived  from  our  outer  and  inner  experience,  or,  as 
he  puts  it,  from  sensation  and  reflection.  And  though  his 
methods  of  research  were  primitively  crude,  he  succeeded  in  en- 
dowing modern  psychology  with  a  problem  of  the  first  impor- 
tance: the  origin  of  our  ideas. 

As  mathematics  was  the  science  of  sciences  for  rationalism,  all 
other  sciences  being  either  extensions  or  special  applications  of 
this  one;  so  for  empiricism  psychology  became  the  science  of 
sciences,  central  and  fundamental,  its  method  b^ing  the  organon 
of  philosophy.  There  had  been  psychology  before  this,  occasion- 
ally (as  in  the  early  chapters  of  Hobbes's  Leviathan)  containing 
suggestions  whose  full  value  has  only  recently  been  realized. 
But  for  the  most  part  it  was  a  very  superficial  aff'air,  a  formula- 
tion of  definitions  of  various  mental  processes,  based  on  no  evi- 
dence except  undisciplined  observation.  The  elementary  dis- 
tinction between  the  logical  implications  of  an  idea  or  a  passion 
and  its  actual  structure  in  consciousness  was  either  unrecognized 
or  neglected.  Psychology  is  of  all  sciences  the  least  amenable 
to  deductive  treatment,  the  one  in  which  even  today  it  is  most 
necessary  to  keep  one's  eye  fixed  on  the  phenomena  to  be  de- 
scribed and  declare  simply  and  plainly  what  one  finds  there. 
No  modern  man  before  Locke  had  done  this,  and  Locke  himself 


12 


DOGMATISM  AND   EVOLUTION 


MATHEMATICS   VERSUS  PSYCHOLOGY 


13 


\f\ 


i 


was  incapable  of  doing  it  with  any  consistency.     But  he  made 

LnordT:^"^^"^'"  "  '^'  ^~^°"  ^'  ^"-^'---  -^o 

The  development  of  English  empiricism  was  carried  on  in  two 
Imes  -h'ch  at  first  appear  to  be  entirely  separate.     On  the  one 
hand,  Mandeville.  Shaftesbury,  Hutcheson,  and  Butler  attempted 
in  yanous  directions  and  with  varying  success  to  apply  the  em- 
pirical study  of  human  nature  to  ethical  problems.     On  the  other 
hand    George  Berkeley  in  his  New  Theory  of  Vision-,,  work 
which  marks  one  of  the  great  turning-points  in  the  history  of 
science-formulated  with  distinctness  the  method  of  introspec- 
tion and  applied  it  with  unsurpassed  acuteness  and  judgment; 
and  in  h^sPnnc^ples  of  Human  Knowledge  first  claimed  for  psy- 
chobgy  the  highest  place  among  the  sciences,  subjecting  their 
fundamental  conceptions  and  principles  to  its  final  jurisdiction. 
1  he  two  lines  of  development  meet  in  David  Hume 

The  form  which  the  system  of  empiricism  took  in  Hume's 
hands  may  be  outlined  somewhat  as  follows.    All  science  must 
begin  with  human  experience  and  can  never  get  beyond  it.     The 
fundamental  science  is  thus  the  science  of  human  experience  as 
such ;  and  all  explanations  whatsoever,  if  carried  back  with  rigor 
must  lead  us  at  last  to  psychological  considerations.     However' 
no  complete  solution  of  any  problem-that  is  to  say,  no  solution 
m  terms  that  do  not  themselves  constitute  new  problems-is 
ever  possible.    Science  must  be  fundamentally  inductive     All 
our  reasonings  must  start  from  principles  of  whose  ground  we 
have  no  inkling,  but  which  we  assume  to  be  true  simply  because 
they  appear  to  be  verified  by  our  detailed  observations  of  matter 
of  fact.     The  limit  of  explicability  is  reached  in  the  elementary 
sensations  and  feelings,  the  fainter  ideas  which  copy  them,  and 
the  observed  laws  of  the  association  and  mutual  relations  of  the 
elements.-No  existence  over  and  above  our  perceptions  is  con- 
ceivable.    The  idea  of  substance  is  indispensable  to  common 
sense,  but  wholly  useless  to  scienc^except  as  it  may  be  identi- 
fied with  a  closely  conjoined  mass  of  ideas.     The  belief  in  an  ex- 


ternal world,  the  belief  in  God,  nay  even  the  belief  in  the  existence 
of  our  own  minds — as  distinct  from  the  hosts  of  ideas  which  flit 
through  them — is  matter,  not  of  knowledge,  but  of  blind  instinct, 
which  science  can  in  a  measure  account  for,  but  which  it  must  in 
vain  attempt  to  justify. — If  substances  are  thus  to  be  subjectively 
interpreted,  so  also  are  relations.    These  are  but  various  ways 
of  comparing  ideas;  or,  more  precisely,  they  are  complex  ideas 
formed  from  simpler  ideas  by  the  inexplicable  process  of  com- 
parison.    Certain  classes  of  relations — for  example,  the  equality 
or  inequality  of  quantities  or  numbers — are  found  to  be  com- 
pletely determined  by  the  ideas  compared ;  that  is  to  say,  while 
these  ideas  are  unchanged  the  relation  remains  the  same.     Such 
relations  give  rise  to  no  peculiar  problem.    They  are  expressed 
by  universal  propositions,  from  which  valid  deductions  may  be 
made;  and  in  the  cases  above  mentioned  the  deductions  are  so 
extensive  as  to  constitute  special  sciences.    The  other  class  of 
relations  (those  of  space  and  time,  identity,  and  causality)  are 
more  remarkable.'    The  utmost  analysis  of  any  acknowledged 
cause  and  effect  (for  example)  will  reveal  no  quality  or  combina- 
tion of  qualities  in  either  or  both  that  determines  why  the  one 
should  be  thought  to  produce  the  other.    And  the  most  exact 
attention  to  two  bell-tones  will  disclose  no  shade  of  difference 
between  them  that  could  account  for  the  one's  being  heard  as 
preceding  or  following  the  other.     In  every  such  case,  therefore, 
the  relation  must  be  supposed  to  be  determined  by  other  ac- 
companying sensations,  feelings,  or  ideas.     Thus  the  second  of 
two  bell-tones  may  be  accompanied  by  a  memory-image  of  the 
first.     In  the  case  of  causality,  the  relation  depends  upon  a  feeling 
of  'necessary  connection,'  which  accompanies  the  habitual  move- 
ment of  the  imagination  from  one  event  to  another,  when  they 
have  frequently  been  observed  to  occur  in  close  succession  and 
uniform  order.     Causal  necessity  is  therefore  by  no  means  equiva- 
lent to  logical  implication.    Nor  is  it  a  property  of  the  operations 

'The  inclusion  of  identity  in  the  list  is  at  first  sight  surprising.  But  it  is 
meant  that  at  most  a  complete  resemblance  can  be  actually  determined  by  the  com- 
parison of  two  ideas.     The  interpretation  of  this  as  identity  is  another  thing. 


14 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


of  nature,  in  themselves  considered,  but  a  property  of  our  imagi- 
nations projected  forth  upon  them. 


Such  were  the  two  great  types  of  philosophical  thought  which 
prevailed  among  the  leading  minds  of  Europe  for  five  generations. 
We  are  aware  how  scanty  has  been  our  exposition,  and  how  much 
that  is  of  first  class  importance  has  been  passed  over.    And  yet, 
could  we  have  contrived  it,  we  should  have  cut  the  account  still 
shorter.     For  our  object  has  been  simply  to  present  the  main 
.  lines  of  cleavage  with  all  the  distinctness  of  a  glaring  contrast. 
As  we  conceive  it,  the  difference  is  essentially  one  between  two 
scientific  ideals,  gained  from  the  two  sciences  which  were  in  most 
active  progress  at  that  time.     Well-known  parallels  of  greater 
or  less  suggestiveness  are  to  be  found  in  the  influence  of  the 
science  of  mechanics  upon  Kant,  of  the  history  of  civilization 
upon  Hegel,  of  biology  upon  the  ethical  speculation  of  the  half- 
century  since  the  Origin  of  Species,  and  of  comparative  and  social 
psychology  upon  many  thinkers  of  today. 

In  this  connection  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  of  the  greater 
English  empiricists  not  one  was  a  mathematician.     Berkeley, 
indeed,  had  a  more  than  ordinarily  good  training  in  mathematics, 
and  showed  a  very  keen  interest  in  such  studies.     His  earliest 
published  writings  were  upon  mathematical  subjects.     But  his 
greatness  lay  elsewhere.     Hutcheson,  more  than  any  other  of 
the  school,  was  influenced  in  his  thought  by  mathematical  con- 
ceptions— sometimes  in  a  very  grotesque  fashion.     But  this  was 
only  in  the  details  of  his  system ;  its  general  structure  was  wholly 
psychological.     Equally  interesting  is  the  impermeability  of  Leib- 
niz to  the  influences  of  the  new  psychology.     For  Leibniz,  among 
all  philosophers,  ancient  and  modern,  is  conspicuous  both  for  the 
breadth  of  his  sympathies  and  the  clearness  of  his  critical  insight; 
and  his  literary  life  overlapped  not  only  Locke's  but  Berkeley's. 
Locke,  indeed,  he  understood — except  where  a  spirit  of  prophecy 
was  necessary  to  understand  him;  but  in  Berkeley's  epoch-mak- 
ing work  he  could  see  nothing  at  all.     And  in  his  own  psychology 


TS«»^:- 


MATHEMATICS    VERSUS  PSYCHOLOGY 


15 


the  significance  of  introspection  as  a  method  of  analysis  finds 
scant  recognition.  Consider  for  a  moment  the  central  feature 
of  his  psychological  theory,  the  conception  of  subconscious  sen-  t. 
sations  (or  petites  perceptions,  as  he  called  them).  By  what 
manner  of  argument  is  the  assumption  of  their  existence  sup- 
ported? We  hear  the  sound  of  the  waves  beating  upon  the  shore. 
The  waves  are  made  of  tiny  drops,  the  separate  sounds  of  which 
we  cannot  distinguish.  But  yet  we  may  be  assured  that  each 
drop  makes  some  sound;  for  if  the  drops  were  silent  the  whole 
ocean  would  be  dumb.  What  would  Berkeley  have  thought  of 
that?  Leibniz's  followers  endeavored  to  make  room  for  the  new 
psychology  by  giving  it  a  place  alongside  of  the  old,  distinguishing 
thus  between  empirical  and  rational  psychology.  This  was  as 
far  as  appreciation  of  it  went. 

In  insisting  thus  upon  the  contrasting  characteristics  of  ration- 
alism and  empiricism,  we  have  had  an  ulterior  object  in  view; 
namely,  to  prepare  the  way  for  an  exposition  of  their  common 
presuppositions.  To  have  attempted  this  latter  task  without 
such  preparation  would  have  been  doubly  dangerous;  first,  by 
exposing  us  to  the  criticism,  that  we  were  losing  sight  of  dif- 
ferences and  endeavoring  to  confound  well-established  distinc- 
tions; and,  secondly,  by  putting  us  in  the  position  of  one  who  is 
arguing  for  a  thesis  and  hence  is  involuntarily  led  to  suppress  or 
distort  the  facts  which  tend  to  weaken  his  contention.  Whereas 
now  we  can  at  least  pretend  to  candor,  and  can  prosecute  our 
discussion  without  fearing  that  we  shall  be  accused  of  a  par- 
tisan interest  in  its  outcome. 


CHAPTER   II 

THE    COMMON    BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND    RATIONALISM 
I.  The  Certainty  of  Immediate  Experience 

A  very  pointed  discussion  has  recently  been  carried  on  con- 
cerning the  proper  standpoint  to  be  assumed  in  the  criticism  of 
the  philosophers  and  philosophical  schools  of  the  past.  How  far 
ought  we  to  forget  the  increased  knowledge  which  the  years  have 
brought  us  and  entering  into  the  life  of  the  past,  to  judge  o 
the  value  of  its  theories  only  in  their  own  terms?  Such  conduc 
seems  a  commendable  generosity  to  old  friends.     But  are  the 

of  tr^h  brjTnT  i"'"'^  ^'^"  ^^^'^^  ^"^  -"  ^he  claims 
of  truth  be  satisfied  if  the  standards  by  which  we  judge  be  any- 

thmg  less  than  established  fact  and  cogent  demonstrating    The 

question  has  had  a  two-fold  bearing,  according  as  the  reputation 

of  the  thinker  or  the  continued  consideration  to  be  given  to  Z 

work  has  been  regarded  as  at  stake.     On  the  first  score,  the  W  ! 

Few  men"";  "''"  '"''  '  --Paratively  easy  case  to  defend. 
Few  men  of  sense  are  now  inclined,  for  example,  to  begrudge 
Descartes  his  fame  as  a  natural  philosopher,  because  his  vortex! 

through  hollow  nerve-channels  has  been  definitely  abandoned 
The  greatness  of  the  scientist  does  not  depend  wholly  on  his' 
permanent  achievements.  But,  on  the  second  score,  the  justice 
of  the  historical  attitude  is  not  so  dear;  and  many  a  learned  critic 
must  have  felt  the  accusation  rankling  within  him,  that  he  had 
debased  the  study  of  philosophy  to  a  mere  esthetic  appreciation 
ot  harmonious  and  grand  ideas. 

There  are  several  reasons,  nevertheless,  which  constrain  us  to 
the  opinion,  that  with  doctrines,  as  with  men,  the  sympathetic 

lar,  that  the  endeavor  to  do  bare  justice  is  a  constant  source  of 

i6 


COMMON   BASIS   OF    EMPIRICISM    AND    RATIONALISM     1 7 

rank  injustice,— that  the  habit  of  checking  up  each  paragraph  of 
an  author  with  the  reflection,  "After  all,  is  this  true?"  is  to  ensure 
constant  misinterpretation.     For  interpretation,   at  any  rate, 
must  be  historical ;  and  the  mental  agility  to  skip  back  and  forth 
over  the  interval  of  even  a  century  is  not  human.     Even  the 
canons  of  sound  deduction,  extra-temporal  as  their  validity  may 
be,  can  seldom  be  applied  by  the  critic  without  a  thought  as  to 
the  scientific  atmosphere  that  may  have  enveloped  and  given 
color  to  the  naked  words  that  remain.     The  men  who  find  fal- 
lacies in  Plato  are  generally  superficial  students.     No  man  puts 
on  paper  anything  approaching  a  complete  record  of  his  thought. 
For  one  premise  expressed,  there  are  ten  that  writer  and  reader 
alike  supply  from  their  common  fund  of  assumptions.     And  the 
inadequacy  of  the  expression  is  only  magnified  when  the  writer 
departs  from  the  tradition  of  his  school,  correcting  the  assump- 
tions which  both  he  and  his  reader  have  alike  regarded  as  indubi- 
table.    For  though  the  need  of  free  and  full  expression  is  sensibly 
increased,  the  possibility  of  real  intellectual  intercourse  is  as  much 
diminished.     One  is  tempted  to  remark  that  no  man  ever  under- 
stands a  philosophical  doctrine  who  has  not  been  previously  led 
to  a  similar  hypothesis  in  the  course  of  his  own  reflections.     This, 
at  any  rate,  we  may  safely  say:  first,  that  to  discover  a  formal 
fallacy  in  the  reasonings  of  one  of  the  great  masters  is,  generally 
speaking,  equivalent  to  revealing  one's  own  lack  of  comprehen- 
sion; and,  secondly,  that  when  the  existence  of  the  fallacy   is 
fully  established  it  remains  probable  that  the  particular  line  of 
argument  thus  demolished  has  in  reality  little  to  do  with  the 
acceptance  of  its  conclusion.     The  really  significant  errors  of 
the  philosophers  are  upon  a  far  more  magnificent  scale.     They 
have  their  sources  in  peculiar  limitations  of  character  and  en- 
vironment ;  and  in  their  consequences  they  affect  the  entire  world- 
view.     The  well  attested    fallacy  is,  rightly  regarded,  but  one 
surface  indication  among  the  many  that  must  be  patiently  sought 
out,  of  vast  underlying  strata  of  thought. 

True  it  is,  indeed,  that  however  frankly  one  may  in  general 

3 


i8 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


terms  admit  the  probability  that  one's  interpretation  is  incorrect, 
one  must  in  each  particular  case  make  the  most  of  the  best  light 
that  one  possesses.  If  any  of  Plato's  arguments  appear  to  the 
student  to  be  patently  unsound,  they  must  pass  with  him  for 
unsound  until  he  has  been  convinced  of  the  contrary.  And 
while  in  the  midst  of  one's  reading  it  may  be  necessary  to  lose 
oneself  by  a  species  of  dramatic  illusion  in  the  thoughts  and 
feelings  of  the  past;  still  there  must  be  times  of  afterthought 
when  one  attempts  to  bring  past  and  present  together, — to  sum 
up  the  permanent  contributions  of  by-gone  schools  to  one's  own 
world-view.  Nevertheless,  as  w^e  must  in  the  second  place  re- 
mark, the  significance  of  these  admissions  is  modified  by  the  fact 
that  the  present  world-view,  by  which  we  judge  the  past,  is 
itself  in  process  of  development.  It  is  not  even  as  if  we  possessed 
a  fixed  body  of  scientific  doctrine,  which  could  be  modified  only  by 
accretion ;  that  is  to  say,  by  the  addition  of  new  facts  and  prin- 
ciples which  should  leave  the  old  unchanged  and  undisturbed. 
If  that  were  the  case,  an  objective  and  final  criticism  of  earlier 
theories  would  not  be  so  impracticable.  But,  on  the  contrary, 
the  progress  of  science  is  a  true  evolution,  an  organic  growth,  in 
which  no  part  is  wholly  unaffected.  Time-honored  formulae, 
even  if  unrefuted,  are  narrowed  in  their  field  of  application,  or, 
by  inclusion  in  more  comprehensive  generalizations,  become  pos- 
sessed of  a  new  significance.^  Thus,  while  two  and  two  still  make 
four  and  doubtless  will  continue  to  do  so,  the  science  of  arithmetic 
has  had  a  new  birth  and  the  general  conception  of  number  itself 
has  been  transformed,  since  the  establishment  by  Cantor  of  the 
existence  of  distinct  'transfinite'  numbers. 

In  the  third  place,  the  chief  motive  which  we  have  for  studying 
the  thought  of  the  past  is  such  as  to  make  sympathetic  criticism 
of  the  greatest  possible  importance.  For  that  motive  is  self- 
knowledge, — the  analysis  of  the  categories  of  contemporary 
thought  in  the  light  of  their  development.  The  method  of  analy- 
sis to  be  employed  is  fundamentally  the  same  as  is  used  in  genetic 
investigations  of  every  sort.     As  a  moving  object  is  easier  to 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM    AND   RATIONALISM    19 

distinguish  than  one  at  rest,  so  the  developing  organism  reveals 
the  intricacies  of  its  structure  far  more  easily  than  the  same 
organism  studied  at  only  a  single  stage  of  its  life-history.  And 
so  also  the  philosophical  conceptions,  which  to  our  direct  exami- 
nation appear  to  be  inexplicable  intuitions  of  the  human  mind, 
may  exhibit  their  hidden  content  with  the  greatest  clearness 
when  the  record  of  their  various  metamorphoses  lies  before  us. 
Thus  the  question  of  deepest  interest  is  not :  ''How  far  can  Plato's 
thought  be  made  to  square  with  the  science  of  today?"  but  rather : 
"How  far  has  Plato's  thought  entered  into  the  living  tissue  of  the 
science  of  today?"  The  most  valuable  criticism,  therefore,  is 
contained  in  a  plain  and  clear  exposition.  The  best  refutation 
of  a  theory  is  the  unvarnished  history  of  its  transformations. 

To  many  of  our  readers  all  that  we  have  just  now  been  saying 
must  appear  to  be  sheer  truism ;  and  very  few  will  question  its 
substantial  correctness.  It  may,  therefore,  be  thought  worthy 
of  note,  that  not  one  of  the  writers  whom  we  have  mentioned 
would  have  found  a  word  of  truth  in  the  whole  discussion.  No 
feature,  in  fact,  is  more  characteristic  of  the  old  dogmatism  than 
the  general  incapacity  of  thinkers  of  both  schools  to  recognize 
the  fact  (or  the  possibility)  of  an  evolutionary  progress  of  human 
knowledge.  If  science  should  advance,  it  must  be  by  the  addition 
of  new  truths  to  old.  That  half-truths  might  grow  into  whole 
ones  was  unsuspected.  As  truth  was  absolute  truth,  so  error 
was  absolute  error;  and  as  the  former  was  most  advantageous, 
so  the  latter  (whether  avoidable  or  unavoidable)  was  most  detri- 
mental, to  the  acquirement  of  further  truth. 

Of  the  rationalists  this  holds  true  as  a  matter  of  course.  The 
very  essence  of  anti-evolutionism  is  expressed  by  Spinoza  in  his 
letter  to  a  recreant  pupil:  "I  do  not  presume  that  I  have  found 
the  best  philosophy,  I  know  that  I  understand  the  true  philos- 
ophy. If  you  ask  in  what  way  I  know  it,  I  answer:  In  the  same 
way  as  you  know  that  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  equal  to 
two  right  angles."^     It  is  not  a  question  of  comparisons!     But 

^Letter  LXXIV.  Elwes  tr 


20 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


It 


the  most  complete  illustration  of  which  we  are  aware  is  to  be 
found  in  the  second  part  of  the  Discourse  on  Method.  The  very 
first  reflection  which  is  there  recorded  is  upon  the  fact,  "that  there 
is  seldom  so  much  perfection  in  works  composed  of  many  separate 
i  parts,  upon  which  different  hands  have  been  employed,  as  in 
those  completed  by  a  single  master."  This  might  be  seen  in 
buildings,  cities,  religions,  and  civil  constitutions.  The  same  is 
true  of  the  ''sciences  contained  in  books" — at  least  the  non- 
mathematical  sciences.  And  finally  the  very  developm.ent  of 
each  one  of  us  from  infancy  is  a  most  unfortunate  necessity. 
''It  is  almost  impossible  that  our  judgments  can  be  so  correct 
and  solid  as  they  would  have  been,  had  our  reason  been  mature 
from  the  moment  of  our  birth,  and  had  we  always  been  guided 
by  it  alone."  It  is  tinder  the  influence  of  this  reflection  that  he 
determines  upon  a  clean  sweep  of  his  previously  entertained  opin- 
ions, and  that  he  adopts  as  the  first  maxim  of  his  future  scientific 
endeavors:  "never  to  accept  anything  for  true  which  I  did  not 
clearly  know  to  be  such." 

Among  empiricists  the  same  blindness  to  the  possibility  of  a 
true  evolution  of  knowledge  prevails.  "Nothing,"  says  Hume, 
"is  more  usual  and  more  natural  for  those  who  pretend  to  dis- 
cover anything  new  to  the  world  in  philosophy  and  the  sciences, 
than  to  insinuate  the  praises  of  their  own  systems,  by  decrying 
all  those  which  have  been  advanced  before  them."i  This  attitude 
is  typical  of  pre-evolutionary  thought;  and  Hume  does  not  deny 
that  it  is  substantially  his  own.  He  is  only  concerned  to  excuse 
the  implied  effrontery  of  his  new  pretensions.  And  his  excuse 
is  the  usual  one.  He  has  found  a  new  mode  of  attack,  a  new 
avenue  of  approach;  he  is  applying  new  methods,  or  is  radically 
enlarging  the  scope  of  old  ones.  Thus  he  hopes  to  succeed  where 
others  have  failed.  That  his  own  philosophy  is  an  almost  in- 
evitable outgrowth  of  the  speculations  of  Locke,  Berkeley,  and 
Hutcheson,  he  does  not  for  a  moment  suspect. 

The  certainty  of  immediate  experience — "seeing  is  believing" — 

^  Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  Introduction. 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND   RATIONALISM    21 

is  a  principle  which  in  the  history  of  philosophy  may  be  said  to 
date  from  Empedocles  of  Acragas,  but  which  common  sense  has 
no  doubt  held  from  time  immemorial.     Not  that  either  philos- 
ophy or  common  sense  has  always  been  agreed  upon  the  matter. 
Indeed,  as  a    philosophical  dogma,  nobody  would  ever  have 
thought  of  asserting  such  a  proposition,  had  it  not  previously  been 
denied.     With  Empedocles  it  was  simply  a  reassertion  of  the 
trustworthiness  of  clear  perception  which  in  the  previous  period  of 
Greek  philosophy  had  become  more  and  more  deeply  suspected. 
The   physical  theories  of  the  early  cosmologists  had  been  so 
utterly  out  of  accord  with  ordinary  observation  that  they  (or  their 
followers)  had  inevitably  been  led  to  exalt  the  authority  of  dis- 
cursive reason  as  over  against  that  of  direct  observation ;  until 
with  Heraclitus,  and  still  more  with  Parmenides,  an  absolute 
scepticism  of  the  senses  resulted. 

In  the  generation  following  Empodocles  this  scepticism  took 
on  a  new  and  more  subtle  form.  According  to  a  theory  ascribed 
to  Protagoras,  the  senses  are  indeed  absolutely  trustworthy  in 
so  far  as  they  simply  make  each  man  aware  of  his  own  perceptive 
states  of  consciousness;  but  they  give  him  no  insight  into  the 
sensations  of  other  men  or  into  the  nature  of  things.  The  notion 
of  an  indubitable  immediate  experience  is  thus  preserved;  but 
the  range  of  its  significance  is  seriously  restricted.  This  doctrine 
of  the  relativity  of  sense-perception  was  maintained  by  all  of  the 
more  important  thinkers  of  antiquity  (except  the  Stoics) ;  and 
in  modern  times  it  has  been  held  by  both  rationalists  and  em- 
piricists. Certain  of  the  latter,  indeed,  have  made  it  a  ground 
for  doubting,  or  denying  altogether,  the  existence  of  any  object 
over  and  above  the  sensations  themselves. 

A  second  form  of  immediatism  philosophy  owes  to  Plato. 
Desiring,  as  a  constructive  social  reformer,  to  found  the  theory 
and  practice  of  politics  upon  a  basis  of  indubitable  truth,  it 
appeared  clear  to  him  that  Protagoras  had  taken  away  the  hope 
of  discovering  such  a  basis  in  the  evidence  of  the  senses.  Yet  he 
saw  that  as  a  matter  of  our  life-history  all  knowledge  starts  from 


22 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND   RATIONALISM    23 


I- 


sensation.  A  partial  solution  of  the  difficulty  he  found  in  the 
example  of  geometry.  Without  sensible  diagrams  the  geometri- 
cian could  accomplish  little,  and  yet  the  most  exquisitely  con- 
structed diagram  was  far  from  conforming  to  the  exact  require- 
ments of  the  science.  It  was  evidently  as  a  suggestion  that  the 
diagram  was  useful, — a  suggestion  of  a  perfect  prototype  which 
it  weakly  imitated.  Was  this  not  true  of  all  our  scientific  ideas, 
including  those  of  morality  and  statecraft  (in  which  Plato  was 
most  deeply  interested)?  Is  not  the  good  man  whom  we  see — 
brave,  wise,  temperate,  and  just  as  he  may  be — a  very  imperfect 
illustration  of  the  ideal  courage,  wisdom,  temperance,  and  justice 
of  which  we  can  conceive,  and  of  which  the  philosopher  attempts 
to  frame  adequate  definitions?  But  if  the  conceptions  of  the 
mathematical  and  moral  sciences  are  not  logically  derived  from 
sense-impressions,  but  only  suggested  by  them,  what  logical 
ground  have  they?  It  seems  to  have  been  properly  held  by  the 
geometricians,  that  the  fundamental  conceptions  of  their  science 
were  self-evident  and  needed  no  further  warrant.  But  Plato  saw 
that  this  was  not  so.  He  perceived  that  all  these  conceptions 
involved  assumptions  that  might  perfectly  well  be  questioned 
and  that  the  geometricians  had  no  way  of  defending;  and  he 
believed  the  like  to  be  true  of  the  moral  sciences. 

In  order  properly  to  found  both  classes  of  sciences,  one  must, 
he  thought,  adopt  a  course  directly  the  reverse  of  deduction. 
Frankly  recognizing  their  fundamental  assumptions  as  mere  hy- 
potheses, one  must  seek  for  more  comprehensive  hypotheses 


which  shall  unite  and  explain  the  former.     And  the  new  hypothe- 


ses must  be  similarly  treated ;  and  the  process  must  be  repeated 
again  and  again  until  it  is  no  longer  necessary  or  possible.  That 
is  to  say,  the  process  must  be  repeated  until  a  conception  is 
jreached  which  is  no  longer  hypothetical,  but  which  is  indeed 
If-explanatory  and  capable  of  explaining  and  justifying  all  the 
onceptions  that  have  led  up  to  it.  The  content  of  this  highest 
onception  Plato  called  the  Good;  and  because  the  conception 
as  itself  incapable  of  being  explained  in  simpler  terms,  but 


must  be  reached  by  each  thinker  through  a  like  process  of  ascentl 
it  came  to  be  for  later  antiquity  the  very  type  of  the  hopelessly! 
obscure,  and  men  would  say:  "As  incomprehensible  as  the  Good 
of  Plato."     In  his  own  mind,  however,  it  constituted  a  new  type 
of  absolute  certitude,  in  default  of  which  no  genuine  knowledge 
was  possible.     The  supreme  conception  was  reached  by  an  in- 
volved and  uncertain  process  of  thought,  but  when  it  was  thus 
reached  its  truth  was  immediately  manifest  to  reason.     The  men- 
tal act  by  which  this  takes  place  Plato  represents  by  the  analogy 
of  sensuous  perception.     In  contrast  to  such  perception,  however, 
it  possessed  a  mediated  immediacy.     In  a  word,  it  was  an  intuition. 
This  logical  theory,  which  with  modifications  of  greater  or  less 
import  has  persisted  down  to  our  own  day,  descended  to  modern 
times  by  three  principal  avenues,— the  teaching  of  Augustine, 
that  of  Aristotle,  and  that  of  Plato  himself.     Aristotle,  who  gave 
to  the  method  of  working  up  to  first  principles  the  name  of  indue 
tion  (iTrajoyri)  appears  to  have  thought  that  it  led,  not  to  a  single 
highest  conception,  but  to  a  variety  of  first  principles  peculiar 
to  the  various  special  sciences;  but  each  when  reached  was  intui- 
tively certain.     With  Augustine  the  intuition  of  self-consciousness 
first  gains  the  importance  which  it  has  had  in  modern  thought.  | 
It  is  thus  entirely  in  the  spirit  of  the  ancient  rationalism  that 
Descartes  divides  the  task  of  philosophy  into  two  parts:  first, 
a  preliminary  analysis,  the  object  of  which  is  to  discover  the 
necessary  fundamental  truths;  and,  secondly,  the  deduction  from 
these  of  the  system  of  the  sciences.     The  so-called  'criterion  of 
truth'  which  he  professed  to  use  in  order  to  distinguish  genuine 
from  pretended  intuitions,  is  peculiarly  significant.     The  genuine 
are  clear  (that  is  to  say,  indubitably  present  to  consciousness) 
and  distinct  (that  is  to  say,  unmistakable  in  content).     In  both 
epithets  the  analogy  of  sense-perception  is  evident ;  and  in  both 
alike  the  recognition  of  an  absolute  beginning  is  apparent,— a 
beginning  which  lies  beyond  proof  and  beyond  external  criticism. 
The  evidence  of  the  intuition  is  entirely  in  itself.     Reflection 
can  do  no  more  than  note  that  it  is  and  what  it  is. 


24 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


COMMON    BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM    AND    RATIONALISM    25 


f) 


A  most  instructive  example  of  Descartes's  intuitions  is  that 
which  stands  first  in  his  system  and  which  he  accepts  as  the 
type  and  standard  of  them  all, — self-consciousness.     I  may  doubt 
(says  he)  the  existence  of  all  the  objects  of  my  thoughts,  feelings, 
and  desires.     I  may  question  whether  the  world  of  nature  which 
the  senses  reveal  be  not  an  illusion;  whether  the  whole  content 
of  the  deductive  sciences  be  not  vitiated  by  lapses  of  memory; 
whether  all  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  life,  all  life's  purposes  and 
ideals,  be  not  wholly  vain.     But — past  and  future  aside — I  can- 
not question  the  reality  of  my  present  experience  as  such.     I 
cannot  doubt  that  such  and  such  ideas,  emotions,  and  impulses 
are  now  within  my  mind.     Indeed  all  that  I  know  assuredly 
with  regard  to  my  mind — or  rather,  to  speak  strictly,  myself — 
is  just  the  fact  that  I  have  such  an  experience.     So  much  is 
clear  and  distinct.     /  think,  therefore  I  am  (or,  /,  as  a  thinking 
being,  exist),  is  not  a  deduction,  nor  is  it  in  need  of  deductive  sup- 
port.    It  stands  in  its  own  strength.     It  would  be  true,  though 
all  else  were  false. 

It  has  been  observed,  that  so  far  as  awareness  of  one's  own 
mental  states  is  concerned,  the  principle  of  immediate  certitude 
is  equally  acknowledged  by  rationalists  and  by  empiricists.  In- 
deed, the  very  example  of  an  intuition  which  we  have  just  taken 
from  Descartes  turns  out,  when  carefully  examined,  to  be  a 
modified  form  of  the  doctrine  of  Protagoras,  set  forth  (not  as  he 
had  done,  as  a  lesson  drawn  from  experience,  but)  as  an  intuition. 
When  one  looks  to  see  what  meaning  Descartes  attributes  to  the  /, 
or  myself,  one  discovers  that  it  is  simply  that  which  is  intuitively 
known  as  thinking.  And,  if  one  further  asks  what  a  thinking 
being  is,  he  replies:  "It  is  a  thing  that  doubts,  understands, 
[conceives,]  affirms,  denies,  wills,  refuses;  that  imagines  also,  and 
perceives."  All  these  properties  unite  in  his  nature,  as  certainly 
as  he  exists — even  though  they  should  convey  to  him  no  truth 
beyond  their  inherence  in,  and  inseparability  from,  himself.  Sup- 
pose, for  example,  that  the  perceptions  of  sense  are  false.  "Let 
it  be  so.     At  all  events  it  is  certain  that  I  seem  to  see  light,  hear 


a  noise,  and  feel  heat;  this  cannot  he  false;  and  this  is  what  is 
properly  called  perceiving  (sentire),  which  is  nothing  else  than 

thinking."^ 

All  this  may  be  otherwise  expressed  by  saying  that  rationalism, 
as  well  as  empiricism,  acknowledges  the  absolute  trustworthiness 
of  introspection  as  a  source  of  truth.  The  difference  between  the 
two  schools  on  this  score  is  due,  first,  to  the  improvement  of  the 
method  of  introspection  by  Berkeley;  and,  secondly,  to  a  conse- 
quent great  divergence  of  opinion  as  regards  the  actual  contents 
of  the  mind,  revealed  by  introspection.  The  ultimate  appeal, 
however,  is  to  the  same  supreme  authority. 

The  improvement  in  method  is  nowhere  more  strikingly  illus- 
trated than  in  the  criticism  of  Descartes  with  which  Berkeley 
introduces  his  own  theory  of  the  visual  perception  of  distance. 
Descartes  had  seen  that  the  altering  convergence  of  the  two  eyes 
plays  a  frequent  part  in  such  perception;  and  he  promptly  at- 
tributed this  part  to  the  angle  formed  by  the  lines  joining  the 
two  eyes  to  the  observed  object.  The  greater  the  angle,  the 
nearer  the  object;  and  thus  the  idea  of  the  angle  must  be  the 
basis  for  a  judgment  as  to  the  distance.  But  this,  Berkeley  says, 
is  pure  fiction.  No  such  process  of  judgment  takes  place;  and 
the  idea  of  the  angle,  upon  which  the  judgment  is  supposed  to 
be  based ,  is  almost  never  present  to  consciousness .  The  defective- 
ness of  Descartes's  procedure  is  that  he  allowed  himself  to  specu- 
late as  to  what  must  be  in  the  mind  in  order  to  account  for  the 
possibility  of  the  given  phenomenon  (of  distance-vision) ,  instead 
of  basing  his  explanation  upon  such  facts  as  were  known  from 
direct  observation.  Since  Berkeley's  statement  of  the  case  is 
very  brief,  and  since  it  marks  an  epoch  in  the  history  of  science, 
a  few  lines  may  be  profitably  quoted.  "It  is  evident  that  no  idea 
which  is  not  itself  perceived  can  be  to  me  the  means  of  perceiving 
any  other  idea  ....  But  those  lines  and  angles  by  means  where- 
of some  men  pretend  to  explain  the  perception  of  distance  are 
themselves  not  at  all  perceived,  nor  are  they  in  truth  ever  thought 

^Meditations,  II;  italics  ours. 


26 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND    RATIONALISM    27 


% 


'/•* 


of  by  those  unskillful   in   optics  ....  Every  one  is  himself  the 
best  judge  of  what  he  perceives  and  what  not.     In  vain  shall  all 
the  mathematicians  in  the  world  tell  me  that  I  perceive  certain 
lines  and  angles  which  introduce  into  my  mind  the  various  ideas 
of  distance,  so  long  as  I  myself  am  conscious  of  no  such  thing."i 
The  true  explanation  he  finds  in  the  sensations  set  up  by  the 
muscular  contraction  involved  in  converging  the  two  eyes.     His 
language  here  is  equally  interesting.     ''It  remains  that  we  inquire 
what  ideas  or  sensations  there  be  that  attend  vision,  unto  which 
we  may  suppose  the  ideas  of  distance  are  connected,  and  by 
which  they  are  introduced  into  the  mind. — And,  first,  it  is  certain 
by  experience,  that  when  we  look  at  a  near  object  with  both  eyes, 
according  as  it  approaches  or  recedes  from  us,  we  alter  the  dis- 
position of  our  eyes,  by  lessening  or  widening  the  distance  be- 
tween the  pupils.     This  disposition  or  turn  of  the  eyes  is  attended 
with  a  sensation,  which  seems  to  me  to  be  that  which  in  this  case 
brings  the  idea  of  greater  or  lesser  distance  into  the  mind.     Not 
that  there  is  any  natural  or  necessary  connection  between  the 
sensation  we  perceive  by  the  turn  of  the  eyes  and  greater  or 
lesser  distance.     But — because  the  mind  has,  by  constant  ex- 
perience, found  the  different  sensations  corresponding  to  the  dif- 
ferent dispositions  of  the  eyes  to  be  attended  each  with  a  different 
degree  of  distance  in  the  object — there  has  grown  an  habitual 
or  customary  connexion  between  those  two  sorts  of  ideas ;'*2  just 
as,  for  example,  the  sound  of  a  word  becomes  associated  with  its 
meaning.     Here  we  have  what  is  at  least  a  plausible  theory, 
based  upon  a  genuine  introspection. 

It  is  with  the  confidence  born  of  this  improved  method  of 
introspection,  that  Berkeley  ventures  to  question  the  existence 
in  the  mind  of  a  distinct  class  of  abstract  general  ideas  over  and 
above  particular  ideas.  Here  his  polemic  is  directed  against 
Locke;  but  at  the  same  time  it  attacks  the  very  foundations  of 
(intuitionalistic)  rationalism.  For  the  essential  mark  of  an  intui- 
tion, and  that  which  distinguishes  it  from  an  impression  of  the 

>An  Essay  Towards  a  New  Theory  of  Vision,  §§  10,  12. 
*Ibid.,  §§i6.  17. 


senses,  it  is  absolute  universality.  The  rationalists  w^ould  not 
even  admit  that  a  genuinely  universal  idea  could  in  any  way  be 
built  up  from  the  data  of  sensation.  Generalized  images  (sup- 
posed to  be  formed  by  the  blurring  together  of  a  great  number  of 
similar  sense-perceptions)  were,  indeed,  acknowledged  to  exist; 
but  these  were  to  be  carefully  distinguished  from  the  true  ideas 
of  reason.  Thus,  for  example,  the  somewhat  dim  and  hazy  image 
of  a  triangle  that  may  start  up  in  the  mind  at  the  mention  of  the 
word,  was  believed  to  be  a  radically  distinct  and  separate  thing 
from  the  scientific  conception  of  triangle  which  is  treated  of  in 
geometry.  This  whole  distinction  Berkeley  proposed,  not  to  de- 
molish, but  utterly  to  transform,  by  pointing  out  that  universality 
of  meaning  is  not  primarily  a  peculiarity  of  origin  or  structure  of 
ideas,  but  a  peculiar  function  which  certain  ideas  have  acquired. 
That  is  to  say, — "an  idea,  which,  considered  in  itself,  is  particular, 
becomes  general  by  being  made  to  represent  or  to  stand  for  all 
other  particular  ideas  of  the  same  sort.'*  Now  what  evidence 
had  he  to  support  this  position?  Simply  the  fact  that  after 
careful  introspection  he  could  discover  no  such  general  ideas  as 
Locke  or  the  rationalists  had  described.  "If  any  man  has  the 
faculty  of  framing  in  his  mind  such  an  idea  of  a  triangle  as  is 
here  [by  Locke]  described,  it  is  in  vain  to  pretend  to  dispute  him 
out  of  it,  nor  would  I  go  about  it.  All  I  desire  is  that  the  reader 
would  fully  and  certainly  inform  himself  whether  he  has  such  an 
idea  or  no.  And  this,  methinks,  can  be  no  hard  task  for  anyone 
to  perform  ....  So  long  as  I  confine  my  thoughts  to  my  own 
ideas  divested  of  words,  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  easily  be  mis- 
taken. The  objects  I  consider,  I  clearly  and  adequately  know.  I 
cannot  he  deceived  in  thinking  I  have  an  idea  which  I  have  not. 
It  is  not  possible  for  me  to  imagine  that  any  of  my  own  ideas  are 
alike  or  unlike  that  are  not  truly  so.''^  The  final  appeal  is  thus 
to  the  same  authority  which  Descartes  too  recognized  as  supreme 
and  infallible, — the  immediate  consciousness  of  the  contents  of 
one's  own  mind. 

^Principles  of  Human  Knowledge,  Introduction,  §  13;  our  italics 


28 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


¥ 


It  cannot  be  said,  indeed,  that  Berkeley  succeeds  altogether  in 
banishing  intuitions  from  psychology.     The  ^notions'  which  he 
admits,  and  especially  the  notion  of  himself  as  a  'spiritual  sub- 
stance,' are  convincing  evidence  to  the  contrary.     The  word  'idea' 
had  been  used  by  Locke  to  denote  any  content  of  consciousness. 
Berkeley  restricts  its  application  to  sensations  and  sensation- 
complexes,  original  or  revived— that  is  to  say,  to  those  conscious 
processes  which,  according  to  his  view,  have  no  reference  to  any 
reality  beyond  themselves.     But  notions  have  just  such  a  refer- 
ence.    A  spirit,  whether  human  or  divine,  and  the  notion  of  this 
spirit,  are  by  no  means  the  same.     The  notion,  therefore,  aims 
at  a  universal  and  objective  validity,  which  is  wholly  foreign 
to  the  nature  of  the  idea.     Now  the  notions  of  other  spirits  are 
arrived  at  inferentially,  ''by  reason";  the  notion  of  the  self  is 
given  directly,  "by  inward  feeling  or  reflexion."     But  "inward 
feeling  or  reflexion,"  in  the  then  usual  sense  of  the  terms,  could 
impart  only  a  species  of  ideas.     As  the  source  of  a  notion,' which 
refers  to  a  reality  beyond  itself,  it  is  a  thinly  disguised  faculty  of 
intuition. 

Much  the  same  comment  is  to  be  passed  upon  that  mysterious 
faculty   of   comparison,    which    Hume's    theory    inherits    from 
Locke's,  and  to  which  ideas  of  relations  are  conceived  to  be  due, 
—particularly  in  connection  with  those  classes  of  relations  which 
are  completely  determined  by  the  ideas  between  which  they  ob- 
tain; namely,  resemblance,  contrariety,  degrees  in  any  quality, 
and  proportion  in  quantity  or  number.     Let  us  ask  how  thiJ 
complete  determination  of  the  relation  is  known.     How  do  we 
know,  for  example,  that  the  double  of  a  number  must  always 
be  its  double?    This  is  not  the  same  as  asking  how  we  know  that 
the  one  number  is  double  the  other,  for  that  may  be  known  in 
various  ways,  direct  and  indirect,  and  with  all  degrees  of  proba- 
bility or  certainty.     At  the  same  time,  the  answer  to  the  former 
question  must  be  included  in  the  answer  to  the  latter;  for  the 
relation  in  question  is  knowable  as  a  necessary  relation.     Other- 
wise Hume's  explanation  would  be  obvious;  namely,  that  the 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND    RATIONALISM    29 

determinate  character  of  the  relationship  is  not  perceived  in  the 
cognition  of  the  relationship  itself,  but  is  an  induction  from  ex- 
perience, not  less  doubtful  than  many  others.  But,  in  Hume's 
own  language,  these  four  kinds  of  relation,  "depending  solely 
upon  ideas  [i.  e.,  upon  the  ideas  related]  can  be  the  objects  of 
knowledge  and  certainty,"  and  accordingly  "are  the  foundation 
of  science"  in  a  sense  to  which  no  induction  from  experience  can 
pretend.^  We  submit  that  this  means,  and  can  only  mean,  that 
in  the  act  of  comparison  from  which  the  idea  of  the  relation  is 
derived,  there  is  involved  an  intuition  of  the  determinateness  of 
the  relation. 

This,  however,  is  a  digression.  What  we  wish  particularly 
to  make  clear  is,  not  that  Berkeley  or  Hume  retained  elements  of 
intuitionalism  in  their  systems,  but  the  far  more  important  fact, 
that  intuitionalism  and  empiricism  have  a  common  principle  in 
their  acceptance  of  a  direct  and  infallible  perception  of  truth. 
That  in  comparison  with  this  fundamental  dogma  the  difi"erences 
between  the  two  great  schools  sink  into  comparative  insignifi- 
cance, will,  we  trust,  become  increasingly  apparent  through  the 
discussions  of  the  following  chapters. 

^Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  Book  I,  Part  III,  Section  i. 


iX 


y 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   COMMON   BASIS  OF  EMPIRICISM   AND   RATIONALISM 
II.  THE  SiMPLiciTv  OP  Elements  axo  the  Exteknautv  op  Re..xxons 
The  possibility  of  an  ultimate  analysis,  or ^  in  other  words,  the 

tTon  of  the  ''''' "'^:'^  ^^  ^^  ^  P—  -^  explanation,  an  exhibi- 
tion  of  the  true  inwardness  of  that  which  has  been  accepted  as  a 
rough  and  ready  whole.     But  for  rationalise  this  rntt  be  a 
definition   (or  demonstration)  of  universals;  for  empiricism  it 
must  be  a  dissection  of  individuals.     For  the  former  it  La  dis- 
covery of  logical  presuppositions;  for  the  latter  it  is  a  discovery 
of  psychological  structure.     And  the  ultimate  elements  to  which 
,  the  one  analysis  leads  are  simple  conceptions  and  simple  judg 
mens;  while  the  elements  which  the  other  contemplate    are 
simple  sensations.     The  contrast  is  glaring  enough.     But  tha 
there  is,  nevertheless,  an  important  identity  underlying  the  two 
positions  can,  we  believe,  be  made  equally  evident 

Let  us  observe  the  logical  connection  between  this  assumption 

Ipirid^^^^^^  "'^^  characteristic  dogmas  of  rationalism'and 

The  connection  with  the  intuitionalistic  feature  of  rationalism 

truth  of  the  indefinable  and  the  indemonstrable-of  that  residuum 
left  by  the  explanatory  process,  which  baffles  further  effort  at 
reduction-that  the  faculty  of  intuition  is  invoked.  On  the  other 
hand,  by  reason  of  the  very  directness  of  the  cognitive  act  and 
the  very  immediacy  with  which  its  objects  are  presented  the 
mtuitive  concept  can  scarcely  admit  of  explanation.     At  any 

30 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND   RATIONALISM    31 

rate,  we  find  that  in  Descartes's  methodology  simplicity  is  not 
so  much  used  as  a  mark  for  the  distinguishing  of  intuitions — 
perhaps  that  would  have  made  the  intuitionalistic  theory  too 
palpably  a  stop-gap — as  the  clearness  and  distinctness  of  intui- 
tional cognition  are  regarded  as  ensuring  the  simplicity  of  its 
content.  For,  in  the  first  place,  "whatever  is  more  simple  is 
whatever  is  more  easy  to  comprehend,  and  what  we  might  make 
use  of  in  the  solution  of  problems;"  and,  in  the  second  place, 
"it  is  to  be  observed  .  .  .  that  there  are  a  few  necessary  elements 
that  we  perceive  by  themselves,  independently  of  all  others,  I 
do  not  say  at  first,  but  by  the  aid  of  experience  and  the  light 
that  is  in  us.  Also  I  say  that  it  is  necessary  to  observe  these 
with  care;  for  it  is  these  which  we  call  the  most  simple  of  each 
series."^  And  again:  "Considering  here  things  merely  in  their 
relation  to  our  intelligence,  we  shall  call  simple  those  only  the 
notion  of  which  is  so  clear  and  so  distinct  that  the  mind  cannot 
divide  it  into  other  notions  still  more  simple. "^ 

Simplicity,  relative  or  absolute,  thus  means  for  rationalism 
logical  priority.  Now  let  it  be  recalled  that  according  to  this  view 
the  order  of  logical  priority  is  irreversible ;  that  in  the  system  of 
science  every  inferred  truth  owes  its  whole  certainty  to  its  prem- 
ises without  contributing  anything  to  theirs ;  and  that  accordingly 
the  knowledge  of  a  conclusion  is  impossible  except  upon  the 
basis  of  its  own  proper  premises.  This  now  means  that  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  complex  somehow  contains  the  knowledge  of  its  con- 
stitutent  simple  elements — even  though  these  latter  may  never 
have  attracted  attention.  "Thus  I  can  know  a  triangle  without 
ever  having  noticed  that  this  knowledge  contains  that  of  the 
angle,  the  line,  the  number  three,  figure,  extension,  etc.;  which 
does  not  prevent  our  saying  that  the  nature  of  the  triangle  is  a 
compound  of  all  these  natures  and  that  they  are  better  known  than 
the  triangle,  since  they  are  what  are  comprised  in  it."^    We  know 

^Rules  for  the  Direction  of  the  Mind,  VI.     Torrey,  Philosophy  of  Descartes,  pp. 
74.  76. 

^Ibid.,  XII;  Torrey,  p.  98;  italics  ours. 

^Ibid  ,  XII;  Torrey,  p.  loi;  italics  ours.     So  Spinoza  holds  that,  if  we  have 


32 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


\\i 


!if 


all  the  simple  natures  absolutely;  but  evidently  we  may  know 
em       ,hout   knowing   that   we   know.     Afte/what  flshion 
then,  do  we  possess  this  knowledge?     Exactly  as  we  retain  in 
memory  anything  which  lies  for  the  moment  without  the  field 
of  reflective  attention.     Even  the  mind  of  the  unborn  child  if  t 

Tmtret  t  f  r^^^'^^  ^-^^-™  ^^  P^^-  P^-  ' 

truths  ''  t\  '^^  "^''^^  ''''''  ^^^  ''^'^  ^'  ^"  -^f-ident 

truths.      To  be  a  rational  creature  at  all  is  to  possess  these  ideas  • 

and  the  act  of  intuition  by  which  they  are  acquired  proves  to  be 

only  an  act  of  aUenHon  to  the  permanent  contents  of  fhe  thinking 

From  this  point  of  view  the  necessity  of  postulating  an  absolute 
limit  to  the  process  of  explanation  becomes  quite  evident      For 

ItuX'-  "''  -tr"^''''  "  ^'^  ^^^^^"^^^^^  ^^^--  --^^  be 

n  the       7fr^^^r'"'''^''  ^"'^P^'  ^"  ^^^  --^  -^  existing 
in  the  unfathomable  depths  of  the  mind,  but  not  capable  of 

being  brought  to  clearness  and  distinctness  before  the  attentiv 
2117^7     For  an  ideals  being  distinct  (or  adequate)  means 
that  the  entire  content  is  perfectly  manifest;  and  the  range  of 
attention  cannot  embrace  an  infinite  content.     This  applies  both 
to  the  process  of  definition  and  to  that  of  demonstration.     With 
respect  to  the  latter  the  case  can  be  put  even  more  strongly.     If 
the  knowledge  of  a  demonstrable  truth  presupposes  the  knowledge 
of  Its  grounds,  and  the  knowledge  of  these  grounds  (if  they  L 
not  ultimate   presupposes  in  turn  the  knowledge  of  their  grounds, 
the  series  of  grounds  and  consequents  cannot  possiblv  be  an 

"  r/"«  """  "'"'"  '''  ^"^"^^'^^  ^'  ^^^  demonstrable 
truth  AtsB  presupposes  the  knowledge  of  C  is  D.     Then  the 

former  truth  is  capable  of  being  expressed  in  the  form  of  a  syllo- 

gism :  If  C  is  D,  A  is  B;  but  C  is  D;  therefore  A  is  B.     Now  if  C 

^s  D  IS  capable  of  similar  expansion,  and  the  process  is  conceived 

any  knowledge  at  all.  God  is  better  known  to  us  than  anything  else      For  thn     H 
cannot  reason  from  the  nature  of  anything  else  to  the  H^  .  though  one 

be  to  ascend  through  the  scale  from  effect  to  c^^^^^^^^  nature-that  would 

fact  that  one  knows  anything  .t  di  •       ,        u  '  impossible-yet  the 

notion  of  God.  '        '  '"^'"  ''"^  '^  '""^^  ^^^^^^  ^-ve  an  adequate 

^Reply  to  Hyperaspistes;  translated  in  Torrey.  PHilosopky  of  Descartes,  p.  x.8.  n 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND    RATIONALISM    33 

to  be  repeated  ad  infinitum,  nothing  remains  of  the  categorical 
proposition,  from  which  we  started,  save  an  endless  chain  of  if's; 
and  no  reason  appears  for  supposing  that  the  proposition  A  is 
notB,  depending  upon  a  similar  infinite  chain  of  antecedents,  may 
not  have  equal  claim  to  truth.  Moreover,  if  there  be  no  ultimate 
truths,  we  cannot  even  be  certain  of  the  implication  of  A  is  B,  in 
C  is  D.  For  if  the  fact  of  this  implication  is  demonstrable,  it 
too  dissolves  into  an  endless  series  of  conditions  which  cannot 
serve  to  exclude  the  validity  of  a  similar  series  leading  to  the 
absence  of  such  implication. 

Such,  then,  is  the  relation  between  the  assumption  of  the  exist- 
ence of  simple  elements  of  thought  and  the  general  scheme  of 
rationalism.     How  does  the  case  stand  on  the  side  of  empiricism? 
Very  similarly.     Here,  it  will  be  remembered,  psychological  intro- 
spection has  been  made  the  organ  of  philosophy,  and  has  been 
qualified  as  an  infallible  source  of  truth — truth,  to  be  sure,  which 
is  limited  in  its  scope  to  the  enumeration  of  the  actual  contents  of 
consciousness.     But  if  such  enumeration  is  to  be  worth  anything 
as  unquestionable  knowledge,  it  must,  at  least  for  some  small 
portion  of  the  field  of  consciousness,  declare  precisely  what  it 
contains;  and  this  can  be  done  with  entire  satisfactoriness  only 
if  there  exist  ultimate  elements  in  terms  of  which  the  enumeration 
can  be  made.     For,  with  regard  to  any  complex  factor  which 
might  be  named  in  the  description,  it  may  always  be  doubted 
whether  its  identification  has  depended  upon  the  particular  ele- 
ments which   it   contains,   or,    perhaps,    upon   a   characteristic 
arrangement  of  elements  which  in  themselves  are  by  no  means 
determinate — or,  again,  whether  similarity  of  meaning  may  not 
have  been  taken  for  identity  of  structural  contents.     Let  it  be 
remembered,  in  this  connection,  that  for  the  empiricist  structure 
and  function  are  absolutely  disparate  orders  of  facts;  and  that 
since  the  structure  alone  of  an  idea  can  be  given  by  an  introspec- 
tion that  declares  what  is  there  and  what  is  not  there,  all  function, 
and  accordingly  all  meaning,  belongs  to  the  problematical  and 
the  obscure — to  that  which  must  be  explained,  and  not  that  in 
terms  of  which  explanation  is  to  be  given. 


34 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND    RATIONALISM     35 


h 


";/ 


Moreover,  just  as  the  intuition  of  the  rationalist  creates 
nothing,  but  is  merely  a  direction  of  attention  to  what  was 
already  present  implicity;  so  the  infallible  introspection  of  the 
empiricist  adds  nothing,  changes  nothing,  in  the  complex  which 
it  analyzes,  but  simply  emphasizes  successively  the  elements 
which  there  existed  in  combination.  Each  element,  so  far  as  its 
own  nature  is  concerned,  is  precisely  the  same  in  and  out  of  the 
combination;  otherwise  the  analysis  would  be  of  questionable 
validity.  Such  change  as  it  may  appear  to  undergo  is  wholly 
to  be  ascribed  to  our  shifting  attention. 

We  shall  return  to  this  subject  very  shortly.     Here  we  are 
concerned  to  show  its  relation  to  the  empiricist  criterion  of  sim- 
plicity.    A  remarkable  passage  occurring  in  Hume's  criticism  of 
the  doctrine  of  abstract  ideas— the  absurdity  of  which  lies  in  the 
fact  that  they  exceed  the  limits  of  possible  simplicity— will  serve 
to  illustrate  the  point.     "We  have  observed,  that  whatever  ob- 
jects are  different  are  distinguishable,  and  that  whatever  objects 
are  distinguishable  are  separable  by  the  thought  and  imagination. 
And  we  may  here  add,  that  these  propositions  are  equally  true  in 
the  inverse,  and  that  whatever  objects  are  separable  are  also  distin- 
guishable, and  that  whatever  objects  are  distinguishable  are  also 
different.     For  how  is  it  possible  we  can  separate  what  is  not 
distinguishable,  or  distinguish  what  is  not  different?     In  order 
therefore  to  know,  whether  abstraction  implies  a  separation,  we 
need  only  consider  it  in  this  view,  and  examine,  whether  all  the 
circumstances,  which  we  abstract  from  in  our  general  ideas,  be 
such  as  are  distinguishable  and  different  from  those,  which'  we 
retain  as  essential  parts  of  them.     But  'tis  evident  at  first  sight, 
that  the  precise  length  of  a  line  is  not  different  nor  distinguishable 
from  the  line  itself  [i  e.,  as  the  preceding  sentence  shows,  from 
the  essential  parts  of  the  line  itself] ;  nor  the  precise  degree  of  any 
quality  from  the  quality.     These  ideas,  therefore,  admit  no  more 
of  separation  than  they  do  of  distinction  and  difference."^     If 
for  the  twentieth  century  reader  these  words  need  any  commen- 

^Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  Book  I,  Part  I,  Section  7. 


tary,  it  is  that  attention  may  be  called  to  the  fact,  that  'different' 
here  denotes  a  numerical  difference  (not  a  difference  in  kind),  and 
that  'distinguishable'  accordingly  means  recognizable  as  numeri- 
cally different;  while  'separable'  refers  to  the  "liberty  of  the  imagi- 
nation to  transpose  and  change  its  ideas."  Of  the  three  terms, 
therefore,  'different'  applies  to  the  simple  ideas  as  they  are  in 
themselves,  'distinguishable'  applies  to  them  as  objects  of  atten- 
tion, and  'separable'  applies  to  them  as  subject  to  the  caprice  of 
imagination.  That  the  separable  is  distinguishable,  and  the  dis- 
tinguishable different,  may  therefore  be  regarded  as  analytical 
propositions;  and  Hume  rightly  regards  them  as  sufficiently 
proved  by  the  mere  challenge  to  conceive  the  facts  otherwise. 
But  that  the  different  must  be  distingui  hable  and  the  distin- 
guishable separable  are  characteristic  dogmas  of  the  empiricistic 
system,  proceeding  directly  from  the  conception  of  psychological 
elements,  and  thus  indirectly  (as  we  have  tried  to  show)  from 
the  doctrine  of  the  certainty  of  immediate  experience.  Upon 
this  point  the  following  passage  in  Hume's  chapter  on  memory 
and  imagination  is  curiously  illuminating.  "Nor  will  this  liberty 
of  the  fancy  appear  strange,  when  we  consider,  that  all  our  ideas 
are  copied  from  our  impressions,  and  that  there  are  not  any  two 
impressions  which  are  perfectly  inseparable.  Not  to  mention,  that 
this  is  an  evident  consequence  of  the  division  of  ideas  into  simple 

and  complex.''^ 

We  may  add  that  from  the  logical  point  of  view  the  psychologi- 
cal element  may  be  indefinitely  complex.  That  is  to  say,  it  may 
enter  into  a  variety  of  relations  of  resemblance,  and  may  be 
classified  accordingly;  and  in  this  way  it  is  capable  of  receiving 
different  predicates  and  hence  of  acquiring  an  extensive  meaning. 
Thus  one  elementary  sound  may  resemble  certain  others  in  pitch, 
others  in  duration,  and  yet  others  in  intensity;  and  hence  may 
be  regarded  as  a  middle  C,  as  a  half-note,  and  sls  fortissimo.  The 
distinction  between  these  predicates  is  thus  at  bottom  a  distinc- 
tion between  the  different  relations  of  resemblance  into  which 

^Op.  ciL,  Book  I,  Part  I,  Section  3;  our  italics. 


=9im 


^e 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


h:H' 


the  simple  idea  enters,  and  is  not  supposed  in  the  least  to  affect 
the  absolute  simplicity  of  the  idea  as  an  existential  unit 
1/ 

The  doctrine  of  the  externality  of  relations  has  been  repeatedly 
foreshadowed  in  these  last  pages.     The  recognition  of  ultimate 
e^ments,  of  whatever  sort,  implies  that  these  elements  have  in 
themselves  a  character,  which  is  independent  of  the  mutual  rela- 
tions  mto  which  the  processes  of  combination  bring  them;  so 
that  m  contrast  to  the  inner  nature  of  the  separate  elements  the 
relations  may  be  properly  described  as  unessential,  or  external 
Such  IS  conceived  to  be  the  case  with  the  relation  into  which  the 
straight  line  and  the  number  three  are  brought  in  the  concept  of 
the  triangle;  and  such  is  similarly  the  case  with  the  relation  into 
wh,ch  two  musical  notes  are  brought  when  they  become  parts 
of  a  single  chord.     For  since-to  take  the  latter  example-the 
notes  in  their  elementary  character  are  the  same  in  and  out  of 
the  chord,  the  relation  which  they  sustain  is  no  true  part  or 
property  of  either  of  the  two.     Furthermore,  if  we  consider  a 
relation  between  complex  terms,  what  each  term  is  in  its  own 
nature  must  obviously  be  determined  by  what  it  contains;  that 
IS  to  say,  by  the  nature  of  its  elementary  constituents,  together 
with  the  relations  between  these  constituents  which  make  uo 
Its  own  structure.     The  larger  relation  of  which  it  is  a  term  must 
be  as  absolutely  external  to  it,  as  the  internal  structural  relations 
are  to  its  ultimate  elements. 

However,  the  externality  of  relations  is  a  doctrine  too  plausible 
on  Its  own  account  to  depend  wholly  upon  such  support      The 
very  notion  of  a  relation-common  sense  will  say-is  of  some- 
thing extending  between  distinct  terms,  with  which  it  is  no  more 
to  be  confounded  than  they  are  with  each  other.     The  supreme 
paradox  of  a  term  'constituted  by  its  relations,'  or  of  a  'system  of 
relations  in  which  nothing  is  related,'  was  not  then  familiar  to 
philosophers;  but  it  would  have  been  explained  as  only  more 
extensive,  not  more  inherently  ridiculous,  than  the  initial  absur- 
dity of  a  relation  which  affects  or  modifies  its  terms. 


COMMON   BASIS  OF   EMPIRICISM    AND   RATIONALISM     37 

But  with  all  its  plausibility  the  doctrine  of  externality  is  ex- 
ceedingly close  to  another  which  is  shocking  to  common  sense, 
and  into  which  the  former  shows  a  constant  tendency  to  trans- 
form itself;  the  theory,  namely,  that  relations  are  unreal.  The 
reason  for  this  tendency  is  apparent.  All  relations  whatsoever 
would  seem  to  be  external  to  the  simple  elements  of  which  all 
reality  consists.  It  may  be  suggested — and  in  recent  times  the 
suggestion  has  seriously  been  made — that  some  relations,  at  least, 
are  themselves  simple  elements  of  reality,  as  underivable  and  as 
unquestionable  as  the  terms  between  which  they  subsist.  But  a 
simple  relation,  existing  independently  of  any  and  all  terms,  ap- 
peared to  the  old  dogmatists  to  be  a  mere  absurdity ;  so  that  this 
mode  of  escape  was  not  open  to  them.  To  what  new  difficulties 
it  might  have  led,  the  example  of  Kant  will  perhaps  teach  us. 
For  the  present  it  will  suffice  for  us  to  note  that  neither  ration- 
alism nor  empiricism  is  able,  when  pressed,  to  vindicate  the 
reality  of  relations — nor  greatly  cares  to  do  so. 

In  the  general  degradation  of  relations  to  the  merely  phenom- 
enal, there  is  one,  at  least,  which  for  rationalism  remains  sacred 
and  unassailable;  namely,  the  logical  relation  of  intensive  inclu- 
sion} While,  therefore,  each  concept  signifies  only  the  essence 
of  its  object  as  unaffected  by  all  relations  to  other  objects — 
while,  to  take  a  famous  example,  the  concept  wax  signifies  what 
wax  is  universally,  regardless  of  its  behavior  toward  other  things 
in  the  world,  and  the  concept  fire  contains  no  reference  to  the 
influence  of  fire  upon  wax  or  wood  or  gunpowder — still,  where  one 
concept  includes  another,  a  real  relation  subsists  between  them. 
Thus  both  fire  and  wax  include  in  their  connotation  the  less 
intensive  concept,  mode  of  extension. 

The  ground  for  the  exception  is  not  far  to  seek.  This  relation 
is  the  one  among  all  others  which  may  reasonably  be  said  not 
to  be  external,  at  least  to  the  more  intensive  concept.  For  the 
relation  expresses  the  real  essence  of  the  concept,  which  is  the 

iln  which  the  definition  of  the  one  term  includes  the  other;  as  with  insect 
and  anima\ 


38 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


Vi 


'X\ 


111 


inclusion  in  its  meaning  of  such  and  such  more  general  concepts. 
And  furthermore  we  can  see  how  the  explanation  can  be  made, 
that,  properly  speaking,  this  is  no  relation  (between  two  distinct 
terms)  at  all,  but  simply  the  identity  of  the  included  concept  in 
and  out  of  its  particular  setting.  In  like  manner,  we  may  add,  the 
only  reasonable  inference  from  premises  to  a  conclusion  must 
have  the  form :  A  includes  B,  B  includes  C,  therefore  A  includes  C; 
the  justification  of  the  procedure  consisting  in  the  recognition 
of  the  identity  of  C  in  itself  considered,  with  C  as  an  element  in 
B,  whether,  again,  the  latter  be  considered  apart  or  as  an  element 
in  A .  (So  also,  if  the  two  premises  and  the  conclusion  be  regarded 
as  concepts,  the  fact  that  the  former,  taken  together,  imply  the 
latter,  is  to  be  explained  by  the  fact  that  the  meaning  of  the  latter 
is  contained  in  the  :oint  content  of  the  former.) 

But  it  is  obvious  that  the  relation  of  inclusion  cannot  obtain 
between  simple  concepts;  and  the  question  becomes  urgent,  how 
the  rationalist  can  save  his  world  from  falling  apart  into  a  chaos 
of  disconnected  elements.  For  the  older  rationalists  (of  whom 
Descartes  is  here  typical),  an  answer  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact 
that  they  really  postulate  two  distinct  classes  of  elements,  namely, 
indefinable  concepts  and  indemonstrable  judgments,  each  of 
which  is  simple  in  its  own  sense,  and  each  of  which  serves  as  a 
bond  of  connection  for  the  other.  The  elementary  judgments 
contain  the  elementary  concepts  in  (or  as)  their  terms;  and  the 
same  terms  occurring  in  several  judgments  unite  them  into  syllo- 
gisms. 

Now  it  seems  clear  that  if  the  judgments  are  to  do  their  part 
in  the  matter  they  cannot  be  merely  analytical;  that  is  to  say, 
their  predicates  cannot  be  contained  in  the  content  of  their  sub- 
jects. They  must  be  strictly  synthetical.  But  here,  as  time  went 
on,  scepticism  found  an  entrance.  Does  intuition  ever  vouch 
for  the  truth  of  a  synthetical  judgment?  Descartes,  indeed, 
declares  so;  but  others  have  denied  the  self-evidence  of  every  one 
of  the  examples  which  he  adduces.  Is  not  science  thus  brought 
into  a  perilous  condition — to  depend  for  its  first  principles  upon 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND    RATIONALISM    39 

the  mere  word  of  contradicted  witnesses?^     Moreover,  if  we  ask 
why  demonstration  is  ever  required  for  any  judgment  whatsoever 
—why  a  ground  must  be  sought  for  the  predicated  connection  of  its 
terms— is  it  not  because  the  judgment  as  it  stands  appears  to  be 
synthetical  and  cannot  be  left  so?     In  a  word,  is  not  every  syn- 
thetical j  udgment  a  standing  problem?    So  Leibniz  believed  ;^  and 
accordingly  he  sought  to  reduce  even  the  axioms  of  Euclid  to 
analytical  form.    Thus  intuitionalistic  rationalism  assumes  a 
position  substantially  identical  (despite  Leibniz^s  protest)  with 
that  of  nominalisticHobbianism;  namely,  that  all  science  must 
be  deduced  from  definitions.     But  while  thus  gaining  a  certain 
self-consistency,  it  is  lost  in  that  hopeless  unproductivity  from 
which  Descartes,  by  means  of  the  assumption  of  distinct  axioms, 

had  sought  to  save  it. 

It  has  been  suggested  that  a  final  means  of  synthesis  is  to  be 
found  in  the  judgment  which  denies  a  simple  concept  of  its 
negative;  as,  for  example.  What  is  unextended  is  not  extended. 
Here  we  remark  that  Descartes  is  correct  in  assuming  that  the 
negative  of  a  simple  concept,  if  it  be  itself  a  concept  at  all,  must 
also  be  a  simple  concept.     For  since  all  definition  is  by  means  of 
genus  and  differentia,  the  negative  is  not  definable  in  terms  of 
the  positive— as,  for  example,  non-extension  is  not  a  species  of 
extension.     And  if  it  be  suggested  that  the  negative  is  in  every 
case  a  species  of  non-existence,  the  reply  follows,  that  the  positive 
is  then  equally  a  species  of  existence,  and  hence  equally  complex. 
If,  then,  unextended  is  a  concept  at  all.  The  unextended  is  not  ex- 
tended is  a  synthetic  judgment;  and  as  such  it  would  appear  to 
be  open  to  much  the  same  criticisms  as  other  supposedly  elemen- 
tary synthetic  judgments.     Suppose,  however,  it  be  said— as  Des- 

1  Cf  Hobbes's  criticism  of  the  dare  et  distincte  (quoted  by  Mr.  Mahaffy) :  "This 
way  of  speaking,  a  great  clearness  in  the  understanding  (as  a  test  of  truth),  is  meta- 
phorical.  and  therefore  not  fitted  for  an  argument;  for  whenever  a  man  feels  no 
doubt  at  al!  he  will  pretend  to  this  clearness."  Cf .  also  Kant  s  explanation  of  the 
necessity  for  a  critical  deduction  of  a  priori  principles,---without  it.  our  assertion 
might  be  suspected  of  being  purely  gratuitous."  Critique  of  Pure  Reason.  An- 
aly tic  of  Principles,  ChaiP  H. 


40 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND   RATIONALISM     4 1 


% 


cartes  does  say^ — that  while,  as  ideas,  both  positive  and  negative 
are  equally  elementary,  nevertheless  the  one  denotes  a  reality  of 
which  the  other  denotes  the  privation.  Then,  if  this  be  supposed 
to  be  the  ground  of  the  negative  judgment,  we  have  the  paradox 
of  two  concepts,  in  themselves  utterly  indifferent  to  each  other, 
held  asunder  in  thought  by  a  characteristic  of  reality  which  is 
known  only  through  the  concepts  themselves. 

From  the  point  of  view  which  these  reflections  indicate,  and 
which,  while  it  belonged  to  neither  Leibniz  nor  Spinoza,  probably 
represents  the  real  drift  of  opinion  of  both, — leaving  aside  the 
question  whether  any  simple  negative  concepts  actually  exist,^ 
it  is  clear  that  no  simple  positive  concept  can  be  universally 
affirmed  or  denied  of  any  other.     On  the  other  hand,  there  is 
nothing  to  prevent  any  two  simple  positive  concepts,  or,  indeed, 
all  such  concepts,  from  being  predicates  of  one  all-comprehensive 
concept  whose  connotation  includes  them  all.     This  concept,  be- 
cause it  can  be  included  in  no  more  intensive  one,  can  never  be  a 
predicate.     Now  this  was  the  ancient  meaning  of  the  term  sub- 
stance (that  which  in  judgment  must  always  be  subject  and  never 
predicate);  and  it  is  connected  with  the  modern  meaning  (the 
eternally  existent)  by  the  simple  reflection,  that  since  no  simple 
predicate  can  be  denied  of  it,  it  contains  all  possible  reality. 
As  predicates  of  substance,  the  simple  positive  ideas  are  called 
attributes.     Now  because  any  substance  must  contain  every  pos- 
sible attribute,  Spinoza  concludes  that  there  can  be  but  one  sub- 
stance ("All  determination  is  negation");  while  Leibniz,  reflect- 
ing that  an  identical  quality  can  exist  in  any  number  of  degrees, 
finds  room  for  an  infinite  number  of  substances  possessing  the 
same  attributes  in  different  degrees,  one  alone  (God)  possessing 
them  absolutely,  or  in  an  infinite  degree. 

Thus,  as  the  system  works  itself  out,  rationalism  conceives  the 

^Rulesfor  the  Direction  of  the  Mind,  XII.     Torrey,  Philosophy  of  Descartes,  p.  99. 

2Xhe  solution  of  this  question  clearly  depends  upon  the  further  inquiry,  whether 
contradictory  concepts  imply  a  genus  of  which  they  are  alike  members.  This  is, 
by  the  way,  a  formal  aspect  of  Hegel's  famous  discussion  of  being  and  naught; 
which  are  conceived,  as  he  says,  as  simple  contradictories,  and  yet  have  no  higher 
genus  within  which  they  may  be  distinguished. 


real  world  as  expressed  in  a  hierarchy  of  concepts  related  only 
through  intensive  inclusion,  and  all  converging  in  one  supreme 
concept  whose  definition  comprehends  within  itself  every  neces- 
sary truth.  Corresponding  to  this  logical  hierarchy  is  the  on  to- 
logical  hierarchy  of  causes  and  effects.  The  logical  relation  and 
the  causal  relation  are  identical.  The  cause  includes  the  effect 
in  precisely  the  same  way  in  which  the  richer  concept  includes 
the  poorer.  The  supreme  cause  is  God,  in  whom,  as  the  sum  of 
all  positive  predicates,  all  possible  combinations  of  reality  are 

grounded. 

We  cannot  forbear  noting  that  in  Spinoza  (and  to  a  lesser 
degree  in  other  rationalists)  this  mode  of  thinking  is  curiously 
mixed  with  another,  inherited   from  neo-Platonism,  and   com- 
monly called  mysticism.     According  to  this  theory,  the  supreme 
concept  in  which  all  others  are  implicit  is  so  far  from  being  the 
most  intensive  of  all  concepts,  that  it  is  the  least  intensive— the 
summum  genus.     To  this  concept  the  name  of  God  is  ascribed; 
and  he  is  regarded  as  the  ultimate  cause  of  which  all  specific 
realities  are  but  particular  effects.     The  commixture  of  rational- 
ism  with  mysticism— whole  heavens  asunder,  as  they  logically 
are— is  probably  due  to  a  very  ancient  misconception  with  regard 
to  the  processes  of  definition  and  demonstration.     Definition,  it 
is  said,  must  always  be  in  terms  of  the  higher,  that  is,  the  more 
general  and  less  intensive ;  and  demonstration  likewise  must  be 
founded  upon  premises  of  greater  and  greater  generality.     But 
it  is  forgotten  that  though  each  element  of  the  predicate  of  the 
definition  is  more  general  than  the  concept  defined,  the  predicate 
as  a  whole  is  not;  and  that  while  one  of  the  premises  leading  to 
a  conclusion  must  be  more  general  than  the  conclusion,  the  prem- 
ises together  are  not.     Now  it  has  been  customary,  on  various 
accounts,  to  regard  the  predicate  of  a  definition  as  falling  into 
two  distinct  parts,  the  genus  and  the  specific  difference;  and  it 
has  been  found  convenient  that  the  difference  shall  be  a  simple 
concept,  all  the  complex  remainder  of  the  content  of  the  subject 
falling  within  the  genus.     For  the    further  elucidation  of  the 


42 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


all 


VI 


subject,  the  genus  must  next  be  resolved  into  a  higher  genus  and 
a  new  difference,  and  this  genus  again  into  a  still  higher  genus 
and  yet  another  difference;  and  so  on,  until  a  highest  genus  is 
reached  which  is  incapable  of  further  analysis  and  thus  marks 
the  limit  of  the  process.     But  it  has  frequently  been  forgotten 
that  in  each  definition  any  single  element  of  the  subject  may  be 
chosen  as  difference,  the  whole  remainder  then  standing  as  genus; 
or,  in  other  words,  that  in  the  process  of  successive  definition  by 
which  a  complex  concept  is  explained,  no  one  order  in  which  the 
elements  shall  be  added  in  is  predetermined.     Every  simple  con- 
cept is  thus  a  siimmum  genus.     But  when  a  certain  order  of 
definition  has  for  any  reason  become  regarded  as  necessary,  the 
successive  genera  are  naturally  viewed  as  presupposing  each  other 
in  the  given  order;  the  equal  significance  of  the  differences  is 
forgotten ;  and  the  summum  genus  is  regarded  as  the  source  and 
cause  of  the  whole  series.     To  put  the  matter  differently,  the 
summum  genus  is  regarded  as  being  a  simple  concept  in  another 
sense  than  the  various  differences.     It  is  capable  of  being  thought 
by  itself,  while  they  are  incapable  of  being  thought  except  as  its 
limitations  or  determinations.     They  are  aspects  of  concepts,  but 
not  themselves  concepts.     The  summum  genus  alone  expresses 
the  essence  of  self-subsistent  reality;  it  alone  is  true  Being,  the 
being  both  of  itself  and  of  all  things  else;  and  hence  all  its  species 
must  be  regarded  as  particular  manifestations  to  which  it  deter- 
mines itself — for  there  is  no  other  Being  to  determine  it. 

Let  this  brief  account  of  the  mystic  logic  be  taken  parentheti- 
cally. It  lies  outside  the  proper  field  of  our  inquiry,  and  is  in- 
serted only  to  prevent  misunderstanding.  For  a  clear  and  striking 
contrast  of  the  two  mental  attitudes,  compare  the  following  quo- 
tations, from  Descartes  and  Spinoza  respectively.  "We  say,  in 
the  third  place,  that  these  simple  elements  are  all  known  by 
themselves."^  "By  substance,  I  mean  that  which  is  in  itself,  and 
is  conceived  through  itself:  in  other  words,  that  of  which  a  con- 
ception can  be  formed  independently  of  any  other  conception/'^ 

^ Rules  for  the  Direction  of  the  Mind,  XII;  Torrey,  op.  cit  ,  p   gg. 
*  Ethics.  Book  I,  Def.  Ill;  Elwes  tr. 


COMMON    BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM    AND    RATIONALISM    43 

According  to  the  latter,  substance  is  clearly  the  only  simple  con- 
cept. But  in  one  of  Spinoza's  letters  to  Oldenburg  the  very 
same  definition  is  applied  to  attribute.  ''You  must  observe  that 
by  attribute  I  mean  everything,  which  is  conceived  through  itself 
and  in  itself,  so  that  the  conception  of  it  does  not  involve  the 
conception  of  anything  else.  For  instance,  extension  is  conceived 
through  itself  and  in  itself,  but  motion  is  not."^  The  tremendous 
gap  between  the  two  standpoints  is  covered  by  the  much  dis- 
cussed but  perhaps  inexplicable  formula:  ^ By  attribute,  I  mean 
that  which  the  intellect  perceives  as  constituting  the  essence  of 

So  much,  then,  by  way  of  parenthesis.  We  turn  now  to  other 
considerations  connected  with  the  general  doctrine  of  the  exter- 
nality, and  implied  unreality,  of  relations. 

In  the  mind  of  the  rationalist,  this  scepticism  of  the  relation 
had  much  to  do  with  the  persistence  of  that  gap,  which,  as  has 
been  pointed  out,  ever  lay  for  him  between  the  universal  and  the 
particular,  the  necessary  and  the  contingent.    This  becomes  most 
strikingly  evident  when  we  inquire  into  the  grounds  of  his  rejec- 
tion of  the  senses  as  evidence  of  reality;  for,  in  a  word,  it  is  the 
relativity  of  sense-perception  that  is  for  him  its  fatal  weakness. 
There  is  a  remarkable  passage  in  Descartes's  second  Medttatton, 
which  may  be  taken  as  illustrative  of  the  common  attitude  of 
the  whole  school.     In  this  passage  he  proposes  the  examination 
of  a  piece  of  wax  in  order  to  ascertain  what  we  can  really  be  said 
to  know  about  it.    Apparently  we  know  it  through  our  senses 
as  white,  hard,  cold,  fragrant,  etc.     But  change  its  surroundings 
place  it  near  the  fire,  and  all  this  changes.     It  loses  its  color  and 
fragrance,  and  becomes  a  shapeless  mass  of  soft,  warm  substance. 
Yet  although  it  loses  every  quality  which  we  observe  in  it,  we 
do  not  hesitate  to  call  it  the  same  wax.    These  sense-qualities, 
then,  which  change  with  change  of  conditions,  and  hence  are 

'^eTcs^ Book  I,  Def.  IV.  For  specific  illustration  of  the  difficulties  inherent 
in  Spinoza's  double  standpoint,  see  Tschirnhausen's  last  letter  to  Spmoza.  with  the 
latter's  reply. 


44 


DOGMATISM   AND   EV'OLUTION 


i 


I)    i' 


t ' 


merely  relative,  do  not  really  belong  to  the  wax.     They  are  not 
essential  to  it.     If  we  would  discover  the  real  nature  of  wax, 
we  must  look  to  some  other  source  than  sense-perception,  for 
its  real  nature  is  just  what  remains  constant  through  all  changes 
and  in  all  relations.     This  nature,  of  course,  is  given  only  in  the 
concept  of  wax  as  a  modification  of  extended  substance.     Now 
what  we  thus  find  to  be  true  of  the  wax  is  true  of  the  whole 
world  of  sense-perception.     However  far  we  go  in  our  observa- 
tions, we  find  only  a    multipicity  of  particular  qualities  which 
are  never  fixed  but  always  changing  and  relative.     But  the  real 
world,  in  the  thought  of  the  rationalist,  is  the  unity  which  under- 
lies this  multiplicity,  which  is  not  subject  to  change,  and  to  which 
all  relations  are  external.     It  is  the  world  of  conceptual  universals 
—the  world  of  reason,  as  opposed  to  the  world  of  sense.     In  a 
secondary'  sense,  the  world  of  particulars  may,  indeed,  be  said 
to  be  real,  since  it  must  have  substance,  the  eternally  existent, 
for  its  ground;  and  its  illusoriness  vanishes  in  so  far  as  we  can 
exhibit  it  as  thus  grounded.     But  this  is  just  the  task  of  reason, 
—to  seek  the  ground;  and  rational  knowledge  is  precisely  the' 
knowledge  of  things  as  grounded. 

How,  then,  are  the  two  functions  of  rational  thought  and  sense- 
perception  connected  ?     Or,  ontologically  stated,  how  is  the  world 
of  the  particular  and  the  contingent  related  to  the  world  of  con- 
ceptual universals?     While  rational  concepts  may,  in  some  sense, 
form  a  logical  system  among  themselves,  culminating  in  the  con- 
cept of  substance,  what  way  is  there  of  getting  out  of  the  system 
to  the  particulars  of  sense-perception?    All  that  we  learn  from 
perception  is  the  changing  qualities  and  relations  of  particular 
objects.     Sense  is  utterly  incompetent  to  reveal  the  unversal .    We 
may  know  through  the  understanding  that  wax  is  a  modification 
of  extended  substance;  but  how  are  we  to  identify  this  particular 
piece  of  hard,  white,  fragrant  material,  which  melts  when  near 
the  fire,  as  such  a  modification  of  extended  substance?     We  may 
assume  that  the  concept  wax  is  a  true  predicate  of  all  particular 
pieces  of  wax;  but  if  these  particular  pieces,  so  far  as  particular, 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND    RATIONALISM    45 


are  wholly  constituted  by  fragrance,  whiteness,  etc.,  and  relations 
with  particular  fires,  etc.,  then  to  predicate  wax  of  the  thing  is  an 
absolutely  unmotived  procedure.  The  very  fact  that  definition 
simply  adds  one  universal  to  another,  makes  it  impossible  to 
pass  logically  from  any  concept,  however  low  in  the  hierarchy 
it  may  be,  to  the  particular.  If  reason  deals  only  with  the 
universal,  and  the  senses  yield  only  the  particular,  the  two  worlds 
must  remain  absolutely  unrelated. 

To  put  the  difficulty  in  perhaps  clearer  form,  we  may  say  that 
the  observations  of  sense-perceptions  are  invariably  expressible 
as  particular  judgments,  such  as,  This  wax  is  white,  or,  The  fire  is 
hot,  or  again.  The  wax  melts  now  that  it  is  near  the  fire.  These 
judgments  are  existential  in  the  sense  that  they  imply  the  exist- 
ence of  their  subjects;  they  are  contingent,  inasmuch  as  no  neces- 
sary ground  for  their  truth  is  given;  and,  as  merely  contingent, 
and  hence  not  invariably  true,  they  convey  no  information  about 
reality.  They  are  not,  properly  speaking,  knowledge  at  all,  and 
cannot  become  such  unless  they  can  be  shown  to  be  the  necessary 
outcome  of  the  real  nature  of  things.  For  example,  the  fact  of 
the  melting  of  a  piece  of  wax  when  heated  becomes  knowledge 
only  when  it  is  shown  to  be  the  necessary  result  of  the  universal 
nature  of  wax  so  to  act  under  such  circumstances.  But  how  is 
this  to  be  accomplished? 

Furthermore,  those  subordinate  universal  judgments,  from 
which  the  contingent  truths  of  sense  are  conceived  more  directly 
to  spring,  must  themselves  be  established  as  valid.  For  instance, 
the  law  that  all  wax  melts  when  heated  demands  explanation— 
as  a  result,  let  us  say,  of  the  specific  constitution  of  wax.  For 
such  a  law  is  obviously  conditional  in  its  significance;  it  is  the 
expression  of  a  relation  between  possible  contingencies;  and  con- 
sequently it  cannot  describe  the  ultimate  nature  of  reality.  The 
statement  of  a  relation,  to  become  truth,  must  be  seen  to  spring 
from  the  attributes  of  substance  itself.  The  conditional  proposi- 
tion must  be  deduced  from  some  final  necessary  truth  which  is 
at  once  universal  and  existential.     This  truth  must  be  universal, 


46 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


^  i\ 


m 


Mi 


since  particulars  cannot  serve  to  establish  universality.     It  must 
be  existential,  since  the  whole  series  of  conditions  must  have 
some  starting  point  in  real  existence.     The  only  judgment  that 
can  meet  these  requirements  is,  of  course,  the  definition  of  the 
highest  concept, — a  definition,  which,  as  the  ontological  proof  is 
supposed  to  show,  contains  existence  as  an  essential  predicate. 
While  every  other  concept  may  be  defined  without  reference  to 
its  existence,  the  very  definition  of  substance  posits  its  existence. 
Now  let  us  suppose  that  from  this  first  principle  the  whole 
system  of  universal  truths  has  been  deduced.     The  problem  still 
remains,  how  the  rationalist  shall  unite  the  mass  of  particular 
contingent  propositions  with  this  system —  how,  for  example,  he 
is  to  establish  deductively  the  fact  that  this  wax  is  white.     He 
has  deduced,  let  us  say,  the  universal,  All  wax  is  white,  or  (in 
conditional  form).  If  wax,  then  whiteness;  but  how  shall  he  deduce 
the  existence  of  this  particular  bit  of  wax.     For  according  to 
the  logic  of  rationalism  the  existence  of  particular  objects  is  a 
fact  altogether  irrevelant  to  the  laws  of  their  action.^     It  may 
even  be  questioned  whether  the  statement  of  their  existence  has 
any  meaning  for  him.     The  wax,  we  say,  exists.     But  the  very 
terms  of  which  the  proposition  is  composed  have  their  meaning 
wholly  exhausted  in  relations— the  determinate  variation  of  the 
sensible  qualities  of  the  wax,  its  modes  of  behavior  under  various 
conditions.     Abstracted  from  these  relations,   the  existence  of 
the  wax  reduces  to  that  of  a  portion  of  extended  substance,  which 
we  have  no  sufficient  means  of  distinguishing  from  any  other 
portion.     It  seems  as  if  the  union  of  essence  and  existence  in 
the  definition  of  the  highest  concept  served  only  to  make  ultimate 
the  breach  between  essence  and  existence  elsewhere. 

But  what  of  the  assumption,  that  the  system  of  universal 
truths  is  deducible  from  its  first  principle?  This  is,  of  course,  a 
mere  postulate  of  the  rationalistic  logic — its  verification  is  not 

iCf.  Leibniz's  recognition  of  this  difficulty  in  his  distinction  between  truths 
of  reason  and  truths  of  fact.  The  latter  are,  indeed,  as  he  holds,  demonstrable 
from  the  former;  but  only  by  an  infinite  process  of  deduction,  which  can  be  accom- 
plished only  in  the  divine  consciousness.  . 


■M 


COMMON   BASIS   OF    EMPIRICISM   AND   RATIONALISM    47 

only  unaccomplished,  but  indefinitely  exceeds  human  powers. 
In  the  actual  progress  of  his  scientific  work,  the  rationalist  cannot 
fail  to  verify  the  aphorism  of  Bacon:  'The  syllogism  is  not  ap- 
plied to  the  first  principles  of  science,  and  is  applied  in  vain  to 
intermediate  laws,  being  no  match  for  the  subtlety  of  nature.*'^ 
Consider,  for  example,  the  testimony  of  Descartes:  "Afterwards 
when  I  wished  to  descend  to  the  more  particular,  so  many  diverse 
objects  presented  themselves  to  me,  that  I  believed  it  to  be  im- 
possible for  the  human  mind  to  distinguish  the  forms  or  species 
of  bodies  that  are  upon  the  earth,  from  an  infinity  of  others  which 
might  have  been  .  .  .  unless  we  rise  to  causes  through  their  effects, 
and  avail  ourselves  of  many  particular  experiments."     In  this 
way,  he  says,  he  had  never  failed  to  find  a  satisfactory  explanation 
of  any  phenomenon,  on  the  basis  of  his  already  deduced  prin- 
ciples.    "But  it  is  necessary  also  to  confess  that  the  power  of 
nature  is  so  ample  and  vast,  and  these  [already  deduced]  prin- 
ciples so  simple  and  general,  that  I  have  hardly  observed  a  single 
particular  effect  which  I  cannot  at  once  recognize  as  capable  of 
being  deduced  in  many  different  modes  from  the  principles,  and 
that  my  greatest  difficulty  usually  is  to  discover  in  which  of  these 
modes  the  effect  is  dependent  upon  them;  for  out  of  this  difficulty 
I  cannot  otherwise  extricate  myself  than  by  again  seeking  certain 
experiments,  which  may  be  such  that  their  result  is  not  the  same, 
if  it  is  in  one  of  these  modes  that  we  must  explain  it,  as  it  would 
be  if  it  were  to  be  explained  in  the  other. "^     Perhaps  the  most 
significant  feature  of  this  confession  is  Descartes's  embarrassment 
at  finding  several  possible  explanations  of  a  phenomenon.     For 
since  explanation  is  deducdon,  a  possible  explanarion  is  an  actual 
one— and  what  geometrician  was  ever  embarrassed  by  the  dis- 
covery of  several  proofs  for  a  theorem,  or  of  several  solutions  for 
a  problem?    Such  embarrassment  can  only  mean  that  the  alter- 
native explanations  depend  upon  anterior  principles  which  are 
mutually  exclusive,  but  between  which  the  investigator  has  not 
yet  been  able  to  decide;  or,  to  put  the  matter  squarely,  that  an 

^Novum  Organum,  Book  I,  §  I3« 
Wiscourse  on  Method,  Part  VI. 


48 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


COMMON   BASIS    OF    EMPIRICISM   AND    RATIONALISM    49 


h- 


m 


•  I 'I 


uncrossed  gap  still  remains  between  the  truths  of  reason  and  the 
generalizations  based  upon  experiment. 

Can  we  go  further  and  say  that  the  rationalistic  deduction  is 
not  only  indefinitely  far  from  accomplishment,  but  essentially 
impossible?     Perhaps  not;  for  the  simple  reason,  that  whenever 
a  law  is  shown  to  be  indemonstrable  from  an  existing  set  of  axiom.s, 
the  rationalist  may  be  expected  simply  to  claim  it  as  an  additional 
axiom.     At  the  same  time,  the  prospect  of  such  procedure  on  his 
part  has  a  fatal  effect  upon  the  convincing  power  of  his  system. 
Axioms  are  supposed  to  be  derived,  not  from  the  exigencies  of 
the  demonstrations  that  are  founded  upon  them,  but  from  the 
unbiased  intuition  of  reason.     A  defect  in  the  system  is  thus 
disclosed  which  is  analogous  to  the  initial  difficulty  involved  in 
the  assumption  of  synthetic  axioms— that  even  if  it  assumed  a 
form  in  which  (in  the  existing  state  of  the  sciences)  it  was  wholly 
irrefutable,  it  would  remain  powerless  to  convince  a  sceptic. 

We  have  been  led  so  far  in  the  discussion  of  the  rationalistic 
side  of  our  subject  that  we  must  confine  ourselves  to  a  few  words 
upon  its  empiricistic  side.     However,  a  very  few  will  suffice. 
That  the  doctrine  of  the  externality  of  relations  is  involved,  for 
empiricism  as  well  as  for  rationalism,  in  the  postulate  of  simple 
elements  has  already  been  shown.      That,  furthermore,  these 
presuppositions  lead  the  empiricist  unavoidably  to  an  atomistic 
chaos  in  which  all  relations  disappear,  is  practically  admitted 
by  Hume  in  the  remarkable  appendix  to  his  Treatise,  and  it  has 
been  joyously  reaffirmed  by  his  critics  ever  since.     We  have  seen 
that  the  rationalist  commonly  saves  himself  from  a  similar  embar- 
rassment by  the  assumption  of  synthetic  axioms.     It  is  worth 
while  inquiring  how  the  empiricist  avoids,  or  at  least  postpones, 
the  fatal  reductio  ad  ahsurdum.     Berkeley  and  Hume  are  here, 
in  sharply  contrasted  ways,  representative  of  their  school.     Each, 
it  will  be  seen,  calls  in  rationalistic  principles  to  his  ai6;i  and 

iThis  has  already  been  shown  for  Hume  in  the  course  of  our  discussion  of 
immediate  experience. 


Hume  is  further  guilty  of  a  fundamental  inconsistency  by  which 
the  externality  of  relations  is  denied,  as  well  as  affirmed,  at  the 
very  threshold  of  his  system. 

The  doctrine  of  the  externality  of  relations  is  held  by  Berkeley 
in  a  form  so  extreme  as  scarcely  to  have  a  parallel.  Not  only 
have  related  ideas  (according  to  him)  a  nature  of  their  own, 
which  is  unaffected  by  their  relations;  but  relations  are  of  an 
absolutely  different  nature  from  ideas,  and  are  cognized  in  an 
entirely  different  manner.  There  are  relations  between  ideas; 
but  relations  are  not  ideas,  nor  are  there  ideas  of  relations. 
Properly  speaking,  we  have  only  wo/io«5  of  relations;  just  as  we 

have  notions,  not  ideas,  of  substances. 

The  grounds  upon  which  Berkeley  bases  this  peculiar  doctrine 
are  interesting,  though  they  do  not  particularly  concern  us  here. 
Ideas,  he  declares,  are  altogether  inactive  entities ;  whereas  spirits 
are  known  to  us  only  as  active,  i.  e.,  as  thinking,  feeling,  and  will- 
ing. It  is  impossible,  therefore,  that  an  idea  should  in  any  way 
resemble  a  spirit;  and  hence  an  idea  cannot  represent  a  spirit 
or  any  of  its  acts.  But  a  relation  includes  an  act  of  the  mind. 
Therefore  there  can  be  no  ideas  of  relations.  So  much  Berkeley 
explains  to  us  in  a  sentence  added  to  the  second  edition  of  his 
Principles  (Sect.  142).  It  is  a  pity  that  he  does  not  enter  more- 
fuUy  into  the  matter;  but  it  is  perfectly  apparent  that  the  rela- 
tions are  understood  to  be  an  extraneous  addition  imposed  by 
the  mind  upon  the  ideas  as  such.  Berkeley  has,  however,  an 
ulterior  motive  in  all  this— or  so  we  suspect.  He  is  concerned  to 
save  the  demonstrative  certainty  of  the  deductive  sciences;  i.  e, 
(for  him  as  for  Locke),  mathematics  and  ethics.  The  absolute 
validity  of  moral  laws  in  particular  must  not  be  left  to  mere 
induction  founded  on  the  observed  connections  between  ideas. 
Apparently,  also,  he  saw  something  of  the  difficulties  involved 
in  regarding  relations  as  a  class  of  complex  ideas;  for  example, 
that  if  the  relation  be  a  compound  of  its  terms  it  is  impossible 
for  the  same  terms  to  stand  to  each  other  in  more  than  one  rela- 
tion.    But  if  the  relation  be  regarded  as  a  simple  idea,  it  becomes 

5 


I 


.L_ 


iH 


so 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


,^ 


I' 


portentously  difficult  to  show  how  it  (as  a  relation  without 
specific  terms)  is  not  a  mere  abstract  idea.  So  to  save  the  rela- 
tion as  an  abstraction  Berkeley  denies  that  it  is  an  idea  or  know- 
able  by  means  of  ideas. 

For  Hume,  however,  who  knows  nothing  of  'notions,*  the 
Lockian  classification  is  inevitable.  Relations,  like  modes  and 
substances,  are  a  class  of  complex  ideas.  Just  how  they  are 
specifically  characterized  is  harder  to  make  out.  Hume  has  often 
been  accused  of  verbal  inconsistency — of  which,  like  a  true  Bacon- 
ian, he  takes  little  account.  But  in  this  case  his  vacillating  modes 
of  expression  seem  to  point  to  a  real  unclearness  and  inconsistency 
of  thought,  and  ultimately  to  an  untenable  postulate  underlying 
his  whole  treatment.  In  the  first  place,  complex  ideas  in  general 
are  introduced  to  consideration  as  remarkable  effects  of  the  asso- 
ciation of  ideas ;  and  it  is  said  that  they  ''generally  arise  from  some 
principle  of  union  [i.  e.,  association]  among  our  simple  ideas. "^ 
With  two  of  the  three  classes  of  complex  ideas  this  appears  to 
be  invariably  the  case.  The  idea  of  a  substance  or  of  a  mode  is 
a  "collection  of  simple  ideas  that  are  united  by  the  imagination 
and  have  a  particular  name  assigned  them,"  association  by  con- 
tiguity and  causation  being  necessary  to  the  first,  while  (pre- 
sumably) either  this  or  resemblance  is  necessary  to  the  second. 
But  a  relation  may  arise  "even  upon  the  arbitrary  union  of  two 
ideas  in  the  fancy,"  "without  a  connecting  principle."  Relations, 
then,  are  not  complex  ideas  in  the  sense  of  being  products  of 
association.  What  then  is  a  relation?  Hume  has  two  answers. 
First,  it  is  "that  particular  circumstance  in  which  ...  we  may 
think  proper  to  compare"  two  ideas;  or,  "any  particular  subject 
of  comparison."  But,  secondly,  a  certain  example  (which  he 
cites)  "will  be  allowed  by  philosophers  to  be  a  true  relation,  be- 
cause we  acquire  an  idea  of  it  by  the  comparing  of  objects."  Is, 
then,  the  relation  the  basis  or  the  product  of  the  process  of  com- 
parison; or  how,  upon  Hume's  principles,  can  it  be  both?  Again, 
"those  qualities,  which  make  objects  admit  of  comparison,  and 

^Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  Book  I,  Part  I    Section  4;  italics  ours. 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND   RATIONALISM     5 1 

by  which  the  ideas  of  philosophical  relation  are  produced"  are 
properly  enough  "considered  as  the  sources  of  all  philosophical 
relation."  But  these  "sources  of  relation"  (comprised  under 
the  seven  heads  of  resemblance,  identity,  etc.)  are  at  once  spoken 
of,  and  are  thereafter  referred  to,  as  being  themselves  relations. 
This  really  amounts  to  saying  that  relations  are  their  own  sources 
or  that  the  existence  and  nature  of  relations  are  wholly  inex- 
plicable in  empiricistic  terms.  Berkeley's  partial  intuitionalism, 
crude  as  it  may  seem,  is  surely  not  less  philosophical  than  this. 

We  have  dwelt  at  some  length  upon  the  rationalist's  inability 
to  pass  from  the  universal  to  the  particular.  It  is  notorious  that 
the  empiricist  is  equally  unable— except  by  the  covert  addition 
of  rationalistic  principles  to  his  own— to  pass  from  the  particular 
to  the  universal.  For  him,  as  for  the  rationalist,  the  contents 
of  sense-perception  are  mere  particulars;  and  the  ascent  from 
the  contingent  particulars  of  sense  to  necessary  connections  of 
ideas  becomes  as  impossible  as  is  the  rationalist's  attempt  to 
deduce  particular  propositions  from  the  body  of  universal  truth. 
We  may  state  the  case  in  another  way.  The  datum  of  knowledge 
which  the  empiricist  recognizes  as  immediately  given  is  in  the 
form  of  individual  elements.  Hence  all  terms  of  thought  that 
are  not  particular  can  be  only  collective.  The  universality  of  a 
concept  can  mean  nothing  but  the  inclusion  of  every  possible 
particular.  It  could  be  reached  only  by  an  infinite  process  of 
summation — and  this  could  never  be  completed. 

Empiricism,  then,  starting  from  what  seems  to  be  a  position 
diametrically  opposed  to  the  assumption  of  rationalism,  runs  into 
the  same  logical  cul-de-sac  in  which  rationalism  has  been  found 
to  issue.  We  may  well  ask:  Is  the  claim  that  the  system  of 
rational  knowledge  is  wholly  derived  from  the  contents  of  sense- 
perception  so  far  removed,  after  all,  from  the  contention  that  its 
source  is  to  be  found  only  in  a  priori  intuitions  of  reason?  It  has 
been  noted,  in  the  first  place,  that  both  positions  rest  on  the 
assumption  that  experience  is  analyzable  into  final  elements. 
The  futility  of  the  empiricist's  attempt  to  construct  a  system 


V]!!^ 


52 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


of  rational  knowledge  from  the  essentially  irrational  and  un- 
related elements  of  sensation  has  often  been  pointed  out.  But, 
as  we  have  seen,  this  was  precisely  the  problem  which  confronted 
the  rationalist;  for  his  logical  ultimate  was  a  bare  given,  as  irra- 
tional and  unrelated  as  the  simple  sensation.  Empiricism  and 
rationalism  alike  conceive  the  process  of  analysis  as  leading  to  a 
final  goal  and  yielding  an  irreducible  element.  That  the  one 
conceives  this  ultimate  as  a  conceptual  absolute,  and  the  other 
as  a  psychological  absolute,  is  of  minor  importance.  A  highest 
concept  and  a  simple  sensation,  regarded  as  the  ultimate  elements 
of  rational  experience,  and  united  to  others  of  their  kind  by  no 
other  relation  than  that  of  mere  coexistence,  are  indistinguishable 
and  alike  meaningless. 

Along  with  this  conception  of  the  real  as  constituted  by  ulti- 
mate elements,  goes  the  complementary  conception  of  relations 
as  merely  external  bonds.  The  process  of  analysis,  whether  logi- 
cal or  psychological,  consists  essentially  in  stripping  away  these 
relations  until  the  inner  core  is  revealed.  The  issuance  of  the 
process  in  elements  whose  validity  can  be  attested  only  by  their 
mere  immediacy  is  the  common  criterion  of  its  success.  And  just 
as  the  analysis  which  leads  to  the  elements  is  a  mere  denial  and 
casting  aside,  so  the  process  of  synthesis  can  be  nothing  more 
than  a  bare  affirmation,  a  joining  together  of  the  essentially  un- 
related. The  organization  of  rational  thought  for  both  rational- 
ism and  empiricism  is  an  externally  imposed  arrangement. 

With  an  important  reservation,  to  which  attention  will  imme- 
diately be  called,  rationalism  and  empiricism  may  be  said  to  agree 
further  in  the  parallel  treatment  of  logical  and  causal  connection. 
Rationalism,  with  its  carefully  formulated  correspondence  be- 
tween the  ontological  and  logical  orders,  establishes  the  peculiar 
relationship  by  the  reduction  of  both  modes  of  connection  to 
terms  of  intensive  inclusion.  Just  as  the  essence  of  a  thing 
contains  its  attributes  and  modes  as  effects,  so  the  higher  con- 
cepts contain  the  lower,  and  so  also  the  premises  contain  the 
conclusion.     On  the  side  of  empiricism,  the  association  of  ideas. 


t    ) 


h 


i> 


COMMON   BASIS   OF   EMPIRICISM   AND   RATIONALISM     53 

springing  from  the  temporal  order  in  which  sensations  are  given, 
is  the  source  of  the  causal  relation;  and,  except  for  the  case  of 
demonstrative  reasoning,  it  is  the  foundation  of  all  inference. 
It  is  this,  which,  as  Berkeley  says,  "gives  us  a  sort  of  foresight 
which  enables  us  to  regulate  our  actions  for  the  benefit  of  life." 
And  Hume  expressly  holds  that  "the  only  connection  or  relation 
of  objects,  which  can  lead  us  beyond  the  immediate  impressions 
of  our  memory  and  senses,  is  that  of  cause  and  effect."  The 
basis  of  syllogistic  inference  is,  of  course,  different.  This  is  to 
be  found  in  that  extraordinary  faculty  of  comparison  which  plays 
so  great  a  part  in  the  classic  empiricism. 

But  the  importance  of  this  exception  must  not  be  exaggerated. 
Hume's  criticism  of  the  notion  of  the  self,  resolving  it  into  a  mere 
sensational  complex,  strikes  a  death-blow  at  the  conception  of 
an  act  of  the  mind.  Though  he  himself  may  not  admit  it,  the 
possibility  of  an  "arbitrary  union  of  two  ideas  in  the  fancy,'* 
"without  a  connecting  principle,"  has  disappeared.  The  faculty 
of  comparison,  like  all  other  faculties,  must  be  explained  in  terms 
of  the  natural  behavior  of  the  ideas  themselves.  Thus  empiri- 
cism takes  the  form  of  a  pure  associationism — and  thus  the 
identity  of  the  causal  and  the  logical  orders  becomes  complete. 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE   THEORY   OF   IDEAS 


55 


:i 


n 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    REPRESENTATIVE   THEORY   OF    IDEAS 

Some  remarkable  illustrations  of  the  doctrines  set  forth  in  the 
preceding  chapters  are  connected  with  the  representative  theory 
of  ideas,  or  'epistemological  dualism,'  as  it  has  latterly  been 
called.  And  so,  though  this  theory  is  by  no  means  universally 
accepted  by  the  old  dogmatists,  we  think  it  important  to  give 
some  analysis  of  it,  and  to  show  its  relation  to  rationalism  and 
empiricism  respectively.  A  general  definition  of  the  theory, 
which  will  apply  with  perfect  justice  to  all  of  the  various  forms 
which  it  has  taken,  probably  cannot  be  given.  But  an  approxi- 
mation, which  will  serve  to  introduce  the  present  brief  survey, 
may  be  based  upon  the  following  statement: 

The  things  of  which  we  have  knowledge  are  not,  as  known, 
themselves  present  to  consciousness,  but  are  represented  by  ideas, 
with  which  they  stand  in  a  relation  which  is  external  to  both  or, 
at  least,  to  the  things. 

By  the  concluding  words  it  is  implied,  that,  whatever  the  rela- 
tion denoted  by  'representation'  may  be,  it  neither  is,  nor  affects, 
any  part  of  the  essential  nature  of  the  thing  or  (generally  speak- 
ing) of  the  idea.  The  idea  may  be  completely  analyzed  without 
betraying  the  existence  of  the  thing;  and  the  thing  may  exist  in 
the  full  possession  of  its  attributes  though  no  idea  of  it  ever  arises. 
The  correctness  (truth,  adequacy)  of  the  idea  and  the  'cog- 
nizedness'  of  the  thing  are  purely  accidental.  The  words,  "as 
known,"  imply  that  even  an  idea,  in  order  to  become  object  of 
knowledge,  must  be  represented  in  consciousness  by  an  idea  of 

itself. 

The  simplest  form  of  the  theory,  and  the  one  from  which  all 
others  are  divergences,  is  that  the  idea  is  like  the  thing.  This 
does  not  mean  that  the  acceptance  of  an  idea  as  correct  is  held 

54 


to  imply  that  an  actual  comparison  between  the  two  has  been 
made.  On  the  contrary,  no  such  comparison  is  believed  to  be 
possible— at  least  to  men.  Even  the  case  of  an  idea  of  an  idea 
is  no  exception.  Nothing  can  be  known  except  through  a  repre- 
sentative—not even  a  representative.  The  utmost  that  com- 
parison can  do  is  to  equate  one  idea  with  another  already  accepted 
as  correct.  The  meaning  of  the  correctness  therefore  is  that  if 
(as  is  inconceivable)  a  comparison  were  made,  the  idea  would 
be  found  to  be  like  the  thing. 

This  primitive  theory  is  in  most  highly  developed  rationalisms 
recognized  as  out  of  the  question;  and  it  slips  in  only  surrep- 
titiously, as  a  relic  of  bygone  habits  of  thought.     In  its  place 
arises  the  theory,  that  the  representation  of  things  by  ideas 
means— not  the  resemblance  of  ideas  to  objects,  but— the  identity 
of  the  relations  between  ideas  with  those  between  objects.    That 
is  to  say,  the  world  of  things  is  supposed  to  form  a  system,  which 
is  exactly  paralleled  by  the  system  of  true  ideas ;  and  the  corre- 
spondence of  an  idea  to  a  thing  means  that  it  is  related  to  all 
other  true  ideas  precisely  as  the  thing  is  related  to  all  other  things. 
In  a  previous  chapter  we  have  shown  how  rationalism  tends  to 
reduce  all  relations  to  the  one  of  logical  inclusion.     The  system 
of  things  then  takes  the  form  of  a  network  of  interlacing  lines 
of  causes  and  effects;  and  the  system  of  ideas,  one  of  subjects 
and  predicates  (or  premises  and  conclusions).     Among  empiri- 
cists, too,  the  resemblance-theory  cannot  long  maintain  its  ground 
—Berkeley's  refutation  of  it  is  proof  of  that.     As  alternatives 
we  find  on  the  one  hand  a  feeble  reflection  of  the  rationalistic 
doctrine— the  theory  of  secondary  qualities— and  on  the  other 
hand,  in  all  mature  empiricisms,  the  rejection  of  the  representa- 
tive theory  altogether.     For  the  subjective  idealism  of  Berkeley, 
by  declaring  that  things  are  merely  a  class  of  ideas,  amounts  to 
a  point-blank  denial  of  the  representative  theory;  and  Hume's 
peculiar  realism  is  so  far  in  full  agreement  with  Berkeley.     For 
though  'images'  (to  use  Berkeley's  terminology)  resemble  'real 
things,*  and  do  indeed  represent  them  in  their  absence,  the  'real 


56 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


t 


t 


t; 

.;  'n 


things'  are  themselves  directly  perceived;  and  the  'images'  can 
be  compared  with  the  'real  things'  and  thus  corrected  by  them. 
The  representative  theory  in  all  its  forms  contains  the  following 
difficulty.     On  the  one  hand,  there  is  nothing  in  the  idea  by 
which  its  correspondence  with  the  thing,  or  even  the  existence  of 
the  thing,  can  be  attested;  and  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  only 
through  the  idea  that  the  existence  and  nature  of  the  thing  can 
be  known.     The  difficulty  is  evaded  somewhat  as  follows.     It  is 
not  anything  in  the  idea  (i.  e.,  it  is  no  part  of  its  logical  content, 
or  of  its  psychological  structure)  that  indicates  its  correctness, 
but  some  character  that  can  vary  independently  of  the  content 
or  structure.     Thus  the  empiricist  observes  that  sensations  (as 
over  against  the  precisely  similar  ideas  of  imagination)  are  dis- 
tinguished by  a  peculiar  intensity,  steadiness,  vividness,  or  emo- 
tional setting,  or  by  their  direct  dependence  upon  the  sense- 
organs;  and  any  or  all  of  these  may  be  regarded  as  assuring  the 
correctness  of  this  class  of  ideas.     On  the  other  hand ,  the  rational- 
ist, rejecting  the  evidence  of  the  senses,  may  specify  the  analytical 
distinctness  of  the  true  ideas  as  the  distinguishing  mark.     If  a 
ground  be  sought  for  any  such  theory,  the  empiricist  who  main- 
tains it  can  only  appeal  to  the  observed  fact,  that  such  ideas  as 
he  has  named  cannot  be  doubted.     The  inability  to  doubt  may 
be  ascribed  to  two  causes :  the  fixity  of  the  idea  itself  in  conscious- 
ness, or  the  strength  of  the  feeling  of  conviction  which  accom- 
panies it.     That  a  similar  procedure  is  possible  to  rationalism 
the  example  of  Descartes  shows.     With  him  too  the  inability 
to  doubt  is  the  ultimate  proof  of  a  true  idea.     His  famous  cri- 
terion of  truth  is  found  inductively — by  the  method  of  difference, 
in  fact.     Having  discovered  an  indubitable  truth,  he  observes  in 
what  respect  this  diffefs  from  all  the  ideas  which  he  has  previously 
rejected  as  open  to  question;  and  this  difference  is  then  the 
criterion.     Descartes,  however,  adopts  this  position  only  as  the 
point  of  departure  from  which  to  reach  a  higher  one.     Ultimately, 
as  he  believes,  the  ground  of  the  criterion  is  to  be  found  in  the 
veracity  of  God.     The  existence  of  a  perfect  being  is  thus  a  self- 


THE   REPRESENTATIVE   THEORY   OF   IDEAS 


57 


supporting  truth  on  which  all  other  truth  depends.^    Needless 
to  say,  this  is  the  more  characteristically  rationalistic  position. 
The  epistemological  dualism  of  idea  and  ideatum  passes  over 
very  easily  into  an  ontological  dualism  of  mind  and  matter. 
The  ideas  are  regarded  as  modes  of  thinking  substance,  and  those 
ideata,  which  are  not  themselves  ideas,  are  regarded  as  modes  of 
extended  substance.     This  is,  of  course,  what  we  find  in  Descartes 
and  (substantially)  in  Locke.     But  other  ontological  interpreta- 
tions are  by  no  means  impossible.     The  distinction  between  idea 
and  ideatum  may  be  regarded  as  defining,  not  two  kinds  of  sub- 
stance, but  two  kinds  of  existence;  that  is  to  say,  a  single  reality 
may  be  regarded  as  existing  both  as  idea  and  as  thing — objectively 
and  subjectively.    This  is  the  conception  which  underlies  the  onto- 
logical proof  of  the  existence  of  God  in  its  original  medieval  form ; 
for  the  proof  turns  upon  the  principle,  that,  since  that  which 
exists  both  as  idea  and  as  thing  is  more  perfect  than  that  which 
exists  as  idea  alone,  the  most  perfect  being  cannot  be  conceived 
as  having  the  former  kind  of  existence  alone.     In  the  period  with 
which  we  are  dealing,  this  conception  is  represented  by  Spinoza, 
by  whom,  however,  it  is  carried  to  an  extreme.     Not  only  may 
the  same  reality  exist  both  as  idea  and  as  thing,  but  nothing 
can  exist  otherwise.      There  is  but  one  substance,  which  in  each  of 
its  modes  exists  both  as  idea  and  as  thing,  that  is  to  say,  in  the  at- 
tributes of  thinking  and  extension.    The  correspondence  between 
idea  and  thing  is,  therefore,  a  universal  parallelism ;  and  if,  to  a  su- 
perficial reflection,  this  does  not  appear  to  be  the  case,  that  is  only 
because  ideas  are  confused.     All  error  is  confusion.     Every  dis- 
tinct idea  (including,  of  course,  every  simple  idea)  is  true;  and 
the  real  content  of  every  confused  idea  is  likewise  true.    Truth 
here  means  the  correspondence,  not  of  one  entity  with  another, 

lit  should  be  recalled  that  the  ontological  proof  of  the  existence  of  God.  in  the 
form  which  Descartes  gives  it,  is  not  a  proof — that  is  to  say,  a  deduction— in  the 
ordinary  sense  of  the  term  at  all.  It  is  a  piece  of  exposition,  calling  attention  to 
the  fact,  that  the  judgment  that  God  exists  is  analytical  and  therefore  requires 
no  deduction.  "Its  conclusion  may  be  known  without  proof  by  those  who  are  free 
from  all  prejudice."  Cf.  Proposition  I  of  the  "geometrical"  account  of  the  proofs 
of  God's  existence,  in  the  Reply  to  the  Second  Objections. 


S8 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


THE  REPRESENTATIVE  THEORY   OF   IDEAS 


59 


i<  t 


I  I 


I   : 


but  of  two  indissoluble  aspects  of  a  single  entity.  Again,  in  the 
monadism  of  Leibniz,  the  correspondence  is  between  the  modes 
of  each  substance  and  the  universe  of  substances.  The  pre- 
established  harmony  here  takes  the  place  of  the  parallelism  of 
thought  and  extension;  and  consequently,  as  in  Spinoza,  the 
completely  distinct  idea  is  forthwith  true.  The  important  point 
for  us  to  note  is  that  in  spite  of  these  developments  of  the  ontology 
of  rationalism  the  epistemological  dualism  remains.  In  Spino- 
zism  the  attributes  of  thought  and  extension  are  each  absolutely 
primitive  and  independent,  and  there  is  no  possibility  of  any 
essential  connection.  The  parallel  that  obtains  beween  them 
is  only  such  as  obtains  equally  between  all  the  infinite  attributes 
of  God.  At  bottom  it  amounts  to  no  more  than  their  being 
predicates  of  a  common  subject.  In  the  philosophy  of  Leibniz, 
the  'windowlessness'  of  the  monads,  their  imperviousness  to  out- 
side influence,  is  a  fundamental  dogma.  The  ideas  of  which  a 
mind  is  conscious  follow  upon  each  other  by  a  law  of  its  own 
nature.  The  student  of  Leibniz  is,  indeed,  sometimes  driven  to 
wonder  how  the  philosopher  ever  convinced  himself  of  the  exist- 
ence of  an  outside  world  at  all. 

How  admirably  the  representative  theory  accords  with  the 
other  characteristic  doctrines  of  rationalism,  the  reader  has  doubt- 
less observed.  The  externality  of  the  relation  between  idea  and 
thing  is  itself  a  case  of  the  general  maxim ;  and  it  further  assures 
the  externality  of  all  other  relations.  For  as  idea  and  object 
are  absolutely  incomparable,  the  identical  relations  which  obtain 
between  ideas  and  between  objects  must  be  wholly  foreign  to 
the  essence  of  both.  Moreover  the  dualism  of  idea  and  ideatum 
makes  the  assumption  of  a  definite  stock  of  underived  and  un- 
questionable knowledge  imperative.  The  rationalistic  axioms 
and  definitions  serve  not  only  to  connect  a  variety  of  ideas  among 
themselves  and  to  support  a  chain  of  'abstract'  reasoning.  The 
intuitions  refer  directly  to  reality;  and  every  deductive  process 
that  starts  from  them  maintains  its  reference  to  reality  to  the  end. 
For  the  relations  between  ideas,  which  the  judgments  of  science 


affirm,  are  at  the  same  time  the  relations  between  the  corre- 
sponding things.  So  that,  in  so  far  as  the  relations  are  concerned 
—and  it  is  only  by  reason  of  their  relations  that  ideas  represent 
things  at  all— the  judgments  may  be  said  to  refer  to,  or  to 
represent,  the  things  as  directly  as  the  ideas. 

So  long  as  empiricism  holds  to  the  representative  theory,  its 
point  of  departure  is  the  assumption,  that  the  thing  is  the  source 
(or  cause)  of  the  perception  that  initially  represents  it  in  con- 
sciousness—any representation  by  an  'image'  being  due  to  the 
fact  that  this  is  a  revival  or  copy  of  the  perception.  This  as- 
sumption is  as  natural,  as  apparently  inevitable,  from  the  empiri- 
cal standpoint,  as  the  doctrine  of  parallelism  is  from  the  rational- 
istic standpoint.  It  will  be  remembered  that  Descartes  alone 
among  the  rationalists  is  willing  to  admit  a  causal  connection 
between  thing  and  idea,  and  even  he  regards  it  as  a  mystery  sur- 
passing human  understanding.  But  for  Locke  and  his  more 
direct  followers  the  assumption  is  unquestionable. 

Whether,  then,  the  perception  resembles  the  thing  is  a  com- 
paratively small  matter.     It  is  believed  to  do  so  in  the  case  of 
sensations  derived  from  more  than  one  sense— also  in  that  of 
solidity.     The  other  sensations  seem  to  be  wholly  different  from 
those  features  of  the  thing  which  cause  them  to  arise  in  us.     But 
they  represent  the  thing  no  less  adequately  on  that  account. 
For  their  representative  function  depends  upon  the  axiom,  that 
every  difference  between  effects  must  be  due  to  a  difference  in 
their  causes.     It  is  important  to  note  that  this  axiom  is  far  from 
justifying  the  inference,  that  all  relations  between  ideas  are  iden- 
tical with  the  relations  between  their  objects.     Indeed,  the  em- 
piricists are  well  aware  of  some  striking  evidences  to  the  contrary. 
Darkness  is  the  absence  of  light;  but  black  is  not  the  mere  ab- 
sence of  brightness  or  of  color,  but  a  peculiar  positive  sensation. 
The  consequence  is  that  a  judgment,  representing  the  relation 
between  two  ideas,  cannot— however  adequate  the  ideas  may  be 
—be  understood  as  referring  directly  to  things.     The  cleft  be- 


6o 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


tween  ideas  and  things  is  thus  far  deeper  for  dualistic  empiricism 
than  for  rationaHsm.  Locke's  famous  definition  of  knowledge 
is  simply  typical — "the  perception  of  the  agreement  or  disagree- 
ment of  our  ideas." 

Certain  other  features  of  empiricism  lead  to  a  like  result.  In 
the  first  place,  while  all  the  simple  ideas  which  the  mind  contains 
have  been  originally  caused  by  their  objects,  the  mind  constructs 
out  of  these  elements  great  numbers  of  complex  ideas,  that  have 
no  objective  counterpart  at  all.  Such,  for  example,  are  the  con- 
ceptions of  virtue  and  vice.  These  ideas  are  not  representative 
of  anything  at  all — except  in  so  far  as  they  are  intended  to  re- 
semble the  similarly  named  ideas  of  other  men.  But,  for  all 
that,  such  ideas  agree  and  disagree  with  one  other,  and  the  per- 
ception of  the  agreements  and  disagreements  is  knowledge .  Thus 
there  is  knowledge  that  has  no  application  outside  of  the  sphere 
of  the  ideas  themselves.  In  the  second  place,  even  where  the 
complex  idea  is  not  a  mere  fiction,  there  is  scarcely  ever  a  com- 
plete certainty  that  a  particular  concrete  object  corresponding 
to  it  exists.  The  possibility  of  illusion  or  hallucination  may  be 
so  slight  as  to  be  practically  negligible,  but  it  is  still  present. 
Locke,  it  will  be  remembered,  recognized  only  two  exceptions, 
the  self  and  God,  the  former  known  intuitively,  the  latter  de- 
monstratively. In  order  to  get  in  touch  with  reality,  the  empiri- 
cism that  holds  to  the  representative  theory  must  call  in  rational- 
ism to  its  aid. 

The  philosophies  of  Berkeley  and  Hume  are  interesting  in  this 
connection,  as  indications  of  the  vain  effort  of  empiricism  to  rid 
itself  of  the  inconsequences  of  Locke's  theory.  Berkeley  flies  to 
two  opposite  extremes.  So  far  as  his  'notions'  of  substances  and 
relations  are  concerned,  his  thought  is  a  mere  undeveloped  ration- 
alism. But  in  his  identification  of  things  with  their  ideas,  he 
institutes  a  very  different  sort  of  speculation.  In  the  first  place, 
he  shows  the  futility  of  the  resemblance-theory  of  representation 
— the  emptiness  of  declaring  two  terms  similar,  which  according 
to  the  hypothesis  cannot  be  compared.     In  the  second  place, 


THE   REPRESENTATIVE  THEORY   OF   IDEAS 


6l 


while  accepting  the  necessity  for  an  external  cause  for  the  idea 
(where  it  is  not  the  work  of  the  mind  itself),  he  denies  that  there 
must  be  a  distinct  cause  for  each  idea;  and  he  urges  the  observ- 
able uniformity  in  the  succession  of  ideas  as  proof  that  they  have 
a  common  origin.     The  difficulty  which  then  faces  him  is  that  of 
explaining,   or  explaining  away,   the  universal  assumption  of 
science  and  common-sense,  that  things  exist  while  we  are  not 
observing  or  thinking  of  them.     This  he  declares  is  true  as  the 
condensed  statement  of  the  results  of  conditions  contrary  to  fact. 
It  really  means  only  that  if  conditions  were  otherwise  the  things 
would  be  perceived.     Stated  categorically,  it  means  simply  that 
the  order  in  which  sensations  come  to  us  contains  numerous 
uniformities;  that  these  uniformities  are  not  limited  to  the  ex- 
periences of  single  minds,  but  extend  from  mind  to  mind  in  such 
fashion  that  the  experiences  of  different  men  dovetail  into  each 
other;  and  that  the  uniformities  of  sensation  are  more  or  less 
reproduced  in  imagination.     We  have,  for  example,  often  seen 
wood  consumed  to  ashes;  and  now,  seeing  similar  ashes,  we  im- 
agine a  fire  that  has  burnt  here  in  our  absence,— a  fire  which  an 
observer  would  have  seen,  had  one  been  present.     There  is  no 
reason  to  assume  the  existence  of  a  thing  in  addition  to  the 
image  or  percept;  nor  is  there  any  sense  in  supposing  that  an 
idea  exists  elsewhere  than  in  some  consciousness. 

Hume's  attitude  upon  the  matter  is  well  expressed  in  a  famous 
footnote  in  the  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding.' 
Berkeley's  arguments,  he  says,  are  absolutely  irrefutable  and 
utterly  unconvincing.  For  the  representative  theory  Hume  has 
no  manner  of  use.  It  simply  doubles  the  problems  to  be  solved, 
without  lending  any  aid  toward  their  solution.  And  Hume  am- 
plifies Berkeley's  argument  against  it  in  one  very  important 
direction.  Berkeley  had  shown  that  ideas  could  resemble  nothing 
except  other  ideas.  Hume,  upon  the  basis  of  his  theory  of  neces- 
sary connection,  shows  that  ideas  can  be  related  as  effects  to 
nothing  except  other  ideas.     The  last  vestige  of  support  for  the 

iSection  XII.  Part  I. 


62 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


THE   REPRESENTATIVE   THEORY   OF   IDEAS 


63 


If 
I 


representative  theory  (so  far  as  empiricism  could  countenance  it) 
is  thus  swept  away.  Nevertheless  Hume  is  not  able  to  rest 
content  with  Berkeley's  idealism.  That  real  things,  or,  if  you 
please,  our  impressions  of  sensation,  do  exist  while  we  are  un- 
conscious of  them,  is,  he  declares,  the  universal  belief  of  unsophis- 
ticated men — an  instinctive  faith  which  no  scepticism  can  weaken 
— and  a  necessary  assumption  for  the  scientific  explanation  of  the 
world.  The  mere  condition  contrary  to  fact  will  not  suffice. 
The  ashes  are  real;  and  to  explain  them  a  real  fire  is  requi- 
site. At  the  same  time,  Hume  can  no  more  than  Berkeley 
give  an  intelligible  meaning  to  the  existence  of  a  thing  ex- 
cept as  a  content  of  consciousness,  but  sets  it  down  as  a  sheer 
absurdity. 

There  can  be  little  doubt,  that,  upon  his  own  principles,  Hume 
is  in  error  in  thinking  this  'realistic'  theory  absurd.  In  the  first 
place,  he  does  not,  like  Berkeley,  feel  the  need  of  a  spiritual 
substance  in  which  ideas  shall  inhere.  To  him,  substances  are 
but  a  class  of  complex  ideas,  and  the  conscious  self  is  no  exception. 
Instead  of  the  self's  being  necessary  to  the  existence  of  ideas 
(or  sensations),  the  contrary  is  clearly  the  case.  In  the  second 
place,  there  is  no  force  in  the  objection,  that  ideas  are  only 
known  to  us  as  connected  in  individual  'streams  of  consciousness. ' 
For  each  of  us  has  direct  experience  of  only  one  such  stream. 
And  if  for  the  understanding  of  the  world  he  is  obliged  to  assume 
the  existence  of  other  streams  of  consciousness,  connected  with 
the  bodies  of  other  men  and  animals,  and  must,  indeed,  often 
ascribe  to  these  consciousnesses  elements  which  he  himself  does 
not  possess ;  there  is  at  least  no  prima  facie  reason  why  equally 
cogent  intellectual  needs  should  not,  with  perfect  legitimacy, 
lead  him  to  the  assumption  of  the  existence  of  simple  or  complex 
sensations  not  connected  with  any  consciousness  whatsoever.  At 
the  same  time,  Hume  clearly  underestimates  the  resources  of 
Berkeley's  position;  and,  indeed,  the  considerations  which  he 
advances  are  all  answered  by  Berkeley  in  advance.  That  a  so- 
called  real  existence  should  be  analyzed  into  a  relation  between 


ideas— the  possibility  of  perception  under  supposed  circumstances 
—may  be  startling  to  common  sense,  but  there  is  nothing  in  it 
to  baffle  scientific  acceptance. 

There  is,  however,  a  very  simple  objection,  which  neither  the 
subjective  idealism  of  Berkeley  nor  Hume's  modification  of  it 
can  successfully  meet,  and  which  did  much  to  block  the  further 
development  of  English  empiricism  during  a  full  century.     How 
can  things  be  identified  with  perceptions,  when  the  same  thing 
can  be  perceived  in  so  many  ways  and  from  so  many  different 
points  of  view?     It  is  not  as  if  the  various  impressions  thus 
received  were  fused  into  a  single  image— as  color  and  texture 
unite  in  the  perception  of  a  rose-leaf.     They  may  be  in  the 
highest  degree  incompatible  and  mutually  exclusive,  as  well  as 
extremely  different  from  each  other.     Yet  they  remain  percep- 
tions of  the  same  thing.     Neither  Hume  nor  Berkeley  can  offer 
any  explanation— except  the  denial  of  the  fact.     So  long  as  the 
perception  and  the  thing  remain  identical,  a  one-to-many  relation 
between  them  is  a  manifest  absurdity.    The  device  of  getting 
rid  of  epistemological  dualism  by  equating  one  side  of  the  division 
with  a  portion  of  the  other  side  will  not  suffice. 

In  conclusion,  we  wish  to  remark  that,  while  Berkeley  and 
Hume  denounce  the  representative  theory,  they  in  effect  fall 
back  upon  its  very  crudest  form  for  the  conception  of  the  relation 
between  idea  and  ideatum.  They  regard  it  as  necessarily  a  re- 
semblance, and  contemplate  no  other  possibility.  This  is  why, 
for  example,  the  possibility  of  an  idea  of  a  spirit  is  rejected  by 
Berkeley.  The  passive  idea  and  the  active  spirit  are  so  utterly 
unlike,  that  no  possible  bond  of  resemblance  between  them  can 
subsist.  This  attitude  on  their  part  may  be  thought  the  more 
remarkable,  as  their  investigations  into  general  ideas  had  famil- 
iarized them  with  an  altogether  different  type  of  representation, 
—that  of  ideas  by  words;  and  Berkeley  had  particularly  noted 
the  analogy  between  the  signification  of  words  and  the  visual 
perception  of  distance.     The  strain  of  eye-convergence  means 


64 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


nearness,  not  because  it  resembles  it  in  any  way,  but  because  it 
has  been  constantly  associated  with  it.  But  representation  such 
as  this  means  simply  the  ability  to  suggest,  arising  from  previous 
association.  The  thing  must  first  be  represented  by  its  idea- 
copy,  before  the  suggestion  of  that  copy  by  an  associated  idea 
is  possible. 


H 


>  j 

it' 


I. 


PART  II 
REVOLUTION  AND  REACTION 


i 


i; 


If 


CHAPTER  I 


1.1 


THE   CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY 

After  the  successful  carrying-out  of  a  revolution,  our  wonder 
may  be  less  excited  by  the  greatness  than  by  the  limitedness  of 
the  changes  that  have  been  effected.  Looking  beneath  the  al- 
tered surface  of  things,  we  find  a  scarcely  modified  substratum, 
which  bears  witness  to  an  unbroken  historical  continuity.  Very 
notably  is  this  the  case  with  the  more  important  revolutions  in 
philosophical  thought.  It  is  notorious,  for  example,  that  the 
founders  of  modern  philosophy,  with  all  their  contempt  of  scholas- 
ticism, were  never  able  to  free  themselves  from  its  most  character- 
istic concepts — nay,  never  awoke  to  their  bondage  to  them.  Very 
similar  is  the  relation  which  the  critical  philosophy  bears  to  its 
forerunners,  rationalism  and  empiricism.  The  'Copernican  hy- 
pothesis' of  Kant,  despite  its  magnificent  daring,  meant  no  such 
absolute  shift  of  the  center  of  vision  as  its  author  supposed.  On 
the  contrary,  nothing  is  more  apparent  to  the  reflective  student 
than  the  far-reaching  identity  of  the  fundamental  logical  con- 
ceptions of  Kantian  and  pre-Kantian  thought.  Indeed,  it  may 
safely  be  asserted,  that  there  is  not  a  single  one  of  the  doctrines 
which  we  have  pointed  out  as  characteristic  of  the  old  dogmatism, 
that  is  not  to  be  found,  either  openly  expressed  or  implicitly 
accepted,  in  the  writings  of  Kant.  And  yet  is  it  none  the  less 
true,  that  in  the  critical  philosophy  a  transformation  of  the 
traditional  logic  is  involved. 

So  far  as  it  is  possible  to  regard  this  transformation  as  due  to  a 
single  revolutionary  idea,  it  may  be  described  as  having  its  source 
in  a  new  conception  of  the  nature  of  truth  and  validity.  As 
conceived  by  rationalism,  the  warrant  for  the  truth  of  any  propo- 
sition could  be  exhibited  only  by  deducing  it  from  some  more 
general  proposition,  whose  truth  in  turn  must  be  attested  by 

^7 


k 


68 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


i! 


»l^ 


some  wider  principle,  the  series  of  premises  necessarily  resting 
upon  some  ultimate  proposition  or  propositions,  for  whose  truth 
no  other  ground  could  exist  beyond  their  own  immediate  clear- 
ness. This  conception  of  the  nature  of  validity  and  of  rational 
procedure,  as  we  have  already  pointed  out,  was  made  inevitable 
for  rationalism  by  the  representative  theory  of  ideas.  Just  be- 
cause the  truth  of  ideas  consisted  in  their  correspondence  to  the 
reality  which  they  represented,  there  could,  in  the  last  resort, 
be  no  test  of  truth  except  intuition. 

Now,  so  far  as  his  ideal  of  scientific  procedure  went,  Kant  was 
a  thoroughgoing  rationalist.  He  was  not — as  he  remarks  in  the 
preface  to  the  second  edition  of  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason — 
opposed  to  the  dogmatical  procedure  of  reason,  since  science 
must  always  derive  its  proofs  from  pure  principles  a  priori.  It 
is  only  necessary  to  inquire  in  what  way,  and  by  what  right, 
reason  has  become  possessed  of  such  principles.  Mathematics 
typified  in  his  mind,  as  in  Descartes's,  the  ideal  of  scientific 
method ;  and  this  ideal  w  as  further  confirmed  by  the  recent  de- 
velopment of  mathematical  physics.  The  fact  of  the  existence 
of  a  body  of  a  priori  judgments  he  assumed  without  question. 
Profoundly  as  Kant  was  stirred  by  the  analysis  of  Hume,  Hume's 
scepticism  left  him  untouched.  Human  knowledge  is — so  he 
believed — unassailably  founded  on  universal  and  necessary 
truths. 

As  to  the  character  of  these  truths,  however,  Kant  had  become 
convinced  that  the  a  priori  premises  on  which  the  sciences  are 
founded  must  be  synthetic  propositions.  It  will  be  remembered 
that  this  was  a  question  on  which  rationalists  had  not  been  agreed. 
Descartes,  to  whom  the  issue  had  not  clearly  presented  itself, 
admitted  both  analytic  and  synthetic  propositions  among  intui- 
tive truths.  Spinoza,  too,  had  included  synthetic  propositions 
as  axioms  among  the  first  principles  of  his  system.  Hobbes  and 
Leibniz,  however,  had,  for  differing  reasons,  made  the  attempt 
to  base  deductive  science  solely  on  definitions.  Now  it  was  evi- 
dent to  Kant,  that  this  latter  procedure  was  impossible.     From 


THE   CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY 


69 


analytic  propositions  alone  no  new  truths  could  be  deduced. 
They  can,  as  Kant  remarks,  serve  only  "to  form  the  chain  of  the 
method,  and  not  as  principles."  Furthermore,  not  only  did  he 
recognize  that  metaphysics  and  natural  science  contained  syn- 
thetic principles,  but  he  was  equally  convinced  that  geometry 
and  even  arithmetic  were  based  upon  such  principles.  Now  the 
mathematical  sciences  were  the  only  ones  to  which  Hume  had 
allowed  demonstrative  certainty,  as  being  based  upon  the  direct 
comparison  of  ideas — all  judgments  involving  the  notion  of  cause 
being  only  of  various  degrees  of  probability  or  'moral'  certainty. 
But  Kant  found  that  Hume's  criticism  of  the  causal  relation 
turned  upon  its  synthetic  character;  so  that,  although  Hume 
himself  had  never  formulated  the  distinction  between  analytic 
and  synthetic  judgments— and,  indeed,  the  distinction  is  wholly 
foreign  to  his  thought— his  criticism  needed  only  to  be  generalized 
in  order  to  apply  with  equal  cogency  to  the  principles  of  mathe- 
matics.i  It  was  in  this  way  that  Kant's  reading  of  Hume  re- 
acted so  sharply  upon  his  inbred  rationalism.  It  brought  into 
relief  the  fundamental  difficulty  of  rationalism  and  empiricism 
alike:  What  warrant  can  exist  for  universal  relations  between 
terms  essentially  disparate? 

It  was,  then,  with  a  clear  recognition  of  this  difficulty,  that 
Kant  was  led  to  formulate  the  problem,  How  are  synthetic  judg- 
ments a  priori  possible?  And  yet,  despite  this  insight,  he  failed 
to  realize  that  a  solution  of  the  problem  must  involve  a  trans- 
formation of  the  whole  scheme  of  rationalistic  logic.  His  pur- 
pose was  not  to  destroy  but  to  fulfill  rationalism. 

The  solution  which  Kant  believed  himself  to  have  discovered 
lies  in  the  fact,  that  a  priori  principles  are  the  indispensable  con- 
ditions of  the  unity  of  experience.  They  are  a  priori,  i-  e,, 
immediately  certain  and  logically  independent  of  all  other  knowl- 

»As  an  indication  of  Kant's  rationalistic  bias,  we  may  cite  the  remark  (in  the 
Introduction  to  the  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  2d  ed.).  that  if  Hume  had  thus  general- 
ized his  criticism,  his  good  sense  must  have  forced  him  to  reject  both  the  logical 
consequences  of  the  criticism  and  the  fundamental  premises  from  which  they  were 
drawn 


,1 


70 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


THE   CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY 


71 


edge,  precisely  because  they  are  involved  in  every  possible  bit 
of  empirical  knowledge.     Their  necessity  lies  in  the  indispensa- 
bility  of  the  function  which  they  perform  in  experience.     If  it  is 
their  universality  which  serves  as  the  basis  of  all  valid  knowledge, 
they  themselves  are  reciprocally  justified  by  the  whole  system 
of  experience.     All  this  implies  unmistakably  an  important  limi- 
tation upon  the  dogmatic  conception  of  irreversible  logical  prior- 
ity.    This  appears  in  the  fact,  that,  as  a  consequence  of  the 
Kantian  treatment  of  the  a  priori  as  the  form  of  thought,  its 
legitimate  application  must  be  restricted  within  the  limits  of 
possible  experience.     That  is  to  say,  a  priori  principles  are  not 
true  in  that  they  severally  and  independently  correspond  to 
reality,  else  a  limitation  upon  them  would  be  unthinkable.     A 
type  of  truth  thus  emerges  in  the  critical  philosophy,  which  is 
not  conceived  as  a  relation  between  the  w^orld  of  thoughts,  on 
the  one  hand,  and  a  world  of  reality,  on  the  other.     This  new 
truth  is  a  concept  which,  like  any  of  the  categories,  is  itself 
applicable  only  within  experience.     Moreover,  the  truth  of  the 
a  priori  principles  is  no  longer  a  matter  of  conformity  to  objects, 
either  phenomenal  or  noumenal.     Kant  himself  expresses  this 
in  his  suggestion,  that,  instead  of  assuming  as  had  previously 
been  done,  that  our  cognition  must  conform  to  objects,  we  make 
the  assumption,  that  objects  must  conform  to  our  mode  of  cogni- 
tion.    On  the  other  hand,  if  the  objects  of  empirical  experience 
are  determined  only  by  conformity  to  the  laws  of  our  intelligence, 
the  a  priori  principles  of  experience  become  knowledge  only  by 
application  to  those  objects.     The  correspondence  between  con- 
cept and  object  which  thus  results  is,  therefore,  a  secondary 
matter,  rather  the  consequence  than  the  ground  of  the  truth  of 
the  a  priori  principles.     What  does  at  once  determine  and  con- 
stitute their  truth  is  precisely  the  function  they  perform.     Con- 
sidered apart  from  this  function,  indeed,  they  are  not  true,  for 
they  are  not  knowledge  at  all,  but  mere  "cobwebs  of  the  brain," 
as  Kant  calls  them. 

That  Kant  did  not  realize  the  full  significance  of  the  changes 


he  had  wrought  in  the  logic  of  rationalism,  or  make  consistent 
use  of  his  own  new  conceptions,  we  shall  attempt  to  make  clear 
as  we  proceed.     Here  we  need  only  call  attention  to  the  fact,  that 
he  insists  upon  preserving  the  traditional  rationalistic  idea  of 
truth  alongside  of  the  revolutionary  one,  though  only  as  a  rubric 
beneath  which  all  is  blank— an  ideal  unattainable  by  human  in- 
telligence.    Knowledge  of  the  thing-in-itself,  if  such  knowledge 
there  were,  could  alone  exemplify  this  truth.     Here  alone  could 
be  found  an  object  absolutely  independent  of  the  ideas  which 
refer  to  it,  and  to  which,  as  their  eternal  standard,  they  must— 
if  they  are  to  be  true— submissively  conform.     And,  on  the  other 
hand,  it  is  evident,  that  only  in  truth  of  the  representative  type 
could  the  thing-in-itself  be  revealed  to  us.     For  this  is  an  object 
which  lies  outside  of  human  experience,  and  hence  can  be  present 
to  it  only  by  representatives.     No  such  relation  as  obtains  be- 
tween the  phenomenal  object  and  its  idea  can  obtain  here.     But 
the  impossibility  of  any  representation  is  equally  evident.     Any 
ascertainable  resemblance  is  out  of  the  question.     And  one  cannot 
postulate  an  identity  of  any  of  the  relations  bet^^een  ideas  and 
those  which  make  up  the  structure  of  the  thing-in-itself;  for  all 
the  former  are  limited  in  their  legitimate  application  to  the  phe- 
nomenal world,  while  the  thing-in-itself  may  be  structureless. 
For  the  same  reason  a  theory  of  secondary  qualities  is  ruled  out, 
even  the  conceptions  of  unity  and  multiplicity  having  no  war- 
ranted application  beyond  experience.     Thus  the  thing-in-itself 
remains  unknowable,  and  the  traditional  conception  of  truth  is 
without  exemplification. 

When  we  pass  on  to  consider  the  conception  of  reality  in  Kant, 
we  are  at  first  struck  by  the  apparent  fact,  that  the  new  concep- 
tion of  truth  which  he  has  introduced  has  not  had  any  effect 
here  at  all.  To  be  sure,  just  as  he  distinguishes  between  two 
possible  orders  of  knowledge  (one  of  which  we  lack) ,  so  he  dis- 
tinguishes between  two  kinds  of  reality,  the  reality  of  the  thing- 
in-itself  and  that  of  the  phenomenon.     The  former  is  the  self- 


>  I 


> 


u   i-' 


72 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


THE   CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY 


73 


subsistence  of  an  orthodox  rationalistic  substance,  with,  to  be 
sure,  the  important  defect,  that  it  is  unknowable;  and  analogy 
would  lead  us  to  expect  that  the  latter  would  represent  the  critical 
standpoint.  But  such  does  not  at  once  appear  to  be  the  case. 
The  reality  of  the  phenomenon,  as  Kant  treats  it,  is  rather  sug- 
gestive of  empiricism.  In  his  own  phrase,  it  is  ''that  in  the  phe- 
nomenon which  corresponds  to  the  sensation."  When  one  speaks 
of  the  reality  of  anything  which  is  not  at  the  moment  perceived, 
that  can  only  mean  that  it  is  connected,  by  means  of  the  analogies 
of  experience,  with  what  is  so  perceived,  so  that  it  coheres  with 
it  in  a  single  larger  whole.  The  absent  phenomenon  thus  owes 
its  reality  to  the  present  phenomenon — a  singular  and  most  in- 
structive parallel  to  Hume's  doctrine  of  belief. 

But  when  we  pause  to  reflect  upon  the  nature  of  the  coherence 
with  present  reality,  which  gives  reality  to  the  absent,  we  see 
that  here  too  the  critical  theory  has  worked  its  transformation. 
This  coherence  is  not  a  mere  association  reducible  to  the  con- 
tiguity of  mutually  independent  elements.  It  is  the  organization 
of  experience  under  categories.  To  put  the  matter  differently, 
the  older  notion  of  reality  has  developed  for  Kant  into  two  inti- 
mately united,  but  nevertheless  formally  distinct,  factors, — 
reality ^  in  the  sense  above  defined,  and  objectivity.  When,  there- 
fore, we  would  rightly  estimate  the  significance  of  Kant's  realitas 
phcBnomenoriy  we  must  recall  that  only  an  object  can  be  thus  real; 
and  that  an  object  is  an  object  only  by  reason  of  its  internal  (and 
external)  organization.  We  must,  then,  even  add  that  it  is  not 
simply  the  absent  phenomenon  which  owes  its  reality  to  the 
work  of  thought,  but  the  present  phenomenon  as  well,  since  it  is 
only  as  an  object  that  it  could  be  real.  That  is  to  say,  apart  from 
the  thought-activity,  nothing  would  be  present  save  an  utterly 
meaningless  image,  to  which  the  attribute  of  reality  would  have 
no  application  whatsoever. 

We  have  already  seen  that  Kant's  critical  problem.  How  are 
synthetic  judgments  a  priori  possible?  arose  through  his  recognition 


I 


^of  the  inadequacy  of  analytic  propositions  to  provide  a  basis  for 
science.     But  it  is  equally  important  to  recognize  that  there 
could  have  been  no  such  problem,  had  not  Kant  accepted  the 
dogmatic  doctrine,  that  analysis  must  yield  final  elements.     In- 
deed, the  very  division  of  propositions  into  analytic  and  synthetic 
rests'  on  this  assumption.     For  no  proposition  could  be  deter- 
mined as  synthetic,  unless  a  complete  definition  of  its  terms  had 
exhibited  their  ultimate  disparateness.     Moreover,  the  recogni- 
tion of  the  necessity  for  synthetic  connection  means  that  the 
terms  of  thought  are  ultimately  simple  elements,  possessing  no 
inherent  relationships.     It  is  only  because  a  synthetic  proposition 
connects  5  to  an  ^,  which  in  itself,  as  A,  has  no  relation  to  B, 
that  the  connection  is  conceived  to  demand  an  explanation .     The 
validity  of  synthetic  relationship  can  never  be  grounded  in  the 
nature  of  the  terms  themselves. 

This,  then,  is  the  problem  of  criticism:  How  is  the  validity  of 
these  indispensable  relationships  to  be  explained?     The  solution 
criticism  finds  in  the  assumption,  that  pure  thought  supplies  to 
experience  certain  universal  modes  of  relationship,  to  which  every 
particular  experience  must  be  subject,  as  a  condition  of  its  be- 
longing to  experience  at  all.     This  assumption  has  its  justification 
in  the  fact  that  without  it  the  validity  of  thought  must  remain 
unexplained.     It  is  the  only  possible  means  of  accounting  for 
the  element  of  necessity  in  experience,  of  accounting  for  the  fact 
that  experience  is  a  unity  and  not  a  chaos;  and  hence  it  must  be 
accepted.    What  makes  the  assumption  necessary,  however,  it  is 
important  for  us  to  note,  is  the  fact  that  relations  are  conceived  as 
external  to  the  terms  related.     It  is  only  relations  between  terms 
already  determined  as  ^'s  and  5's,  that  a  priori  forms  of  thought 
are  needed,  or  are  competent,  to  explain.     If  experience  does  not 
yield  terms  given  as  essentially  discrete,  the  a  priori  forms  must 
remain  inoperative.     For  if  the  ^'s  and  5's  are  not  discrete, 
then  their  relationship  to  each  other  must  constitute  in  part  their 
determination  as  A  and  B.     Consequently,  not  only  is  there  no 
need  of  assuming  universal  forms  of  thought  to  account  for  their 


74 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


THE   CRITICAL  PHILOSOPHY 


75 


relationship,  but  there  is  no  ground  for  assuming  that  such  uni- 
versal forms  would  apply  to  them  at  all.  Universal  forms  of 
thought,  as  necessary  modes  of  relationship,  are  altogether  in- 
capable of  determining  the  terms  which  they  relate;  they  are 
altogether  incompetent  to  determine  the  content  for  whose  valid- 
ity they  are  the  necessary  ground.  Furthermore,  even  supposing 
discrete  ^'s  and  B's  to  be  given,  to  which  a  priori  forms  must 
apply,  what  ground  is  there  for  determining  the  application  of 
the  forms  to  this  particular  A  and  B  rather  than  to  C  and  D} 

It  scarcely  needs  to  be  pointed  out,  that  this  inability  of  the 
critical  philosophy  to  account  for  the  application  of  the  forms  to 
the  content  of  thought  is  identical  with  the  inability  of  rationalism 
to  apply  universals  to  particulars.  That  the  emergence  of  this 
dualism,  implied,  as  we  have  tried  to  show,  in  the  very  basis 
of  criticism,  is  inevitable,  appears  more  plainly  upon  further 
consideration.  Necessary  truth,  as  conceived  by  rationalism, 
was  truth  which  could  be  deduced  from  axioms  of  a  priori 
certainty.  Any  proposition  which  could  not  be  exhibited  as  a 
consequence  from  a  priori  premises  was  incapable  of  attaining 
rational  validity.  The  result  of  this  procedure  of  rationalism 
was,  as  we  have  seen,  to  divide  experience  squarely  in  two,  leaving 
on  the  side  of  necessity  all  universal  propositions,  and  on  the  side 
of  contingency  the  whole  mass  of  particular  propositions.  Now 
criticism,  in  its  contention  that  necessity  springs  from  the  a 
priori  forms  of  thought,  attempts  to  avoid  this  rationalistic 
dichotomy,  and  to  institute  a  new  conception  of  the  distinction 
between  necessity  and  contingency.  That  is,  instead  of  there 
being  one  type  of  cognition  giving  rise  to  truths  of  reason,  and 
another  type  giving  rise  to  truths  of  fact,  every  possible  bit  of 
experience  has  at  once  a  necessary  and  a  contingent  side.  How- 
ever contingent  a  given  proposition,  such  as  This  wax  is  white, 
may  seem,  it  is  by  the  very  fact  of  its  belonging  to  experience, 
already  partly  determined  by  the  forms  of  perception  and  judg- 
ment, and  in  so  far  necessary.  To  be  in  experience  at  all  is 
to  be  subject  to  the  necessary  conditions  of  possible  experience. 


Now  if  this  new  conception  of  necessity  and  contingency  as 
aspects  of  all  experience  is  to  be  logically  followed  out,  it  must  be 
equally  true  that  there  can  be  no  merely  universal  proposition. 
That  is  to  say,  every  formally  universal  proposition  must  have 
its  aspect  or  element  of  contingency.     For  according  to  the 
Kantian  logic  the  necessity  or  the  universality  of  a  proposition 
lies  in  the  form  of  connection  of  subject  and  predicate.     Its 
terms,  which  are  related  by  this  a  priori  connection,  must,  then, 
be  given,  since  they  can  never  be  determined  by  their  connections 
with  each  other.     If  it  be  asserted  that  other  relations  than  those 
in  which  they  now  stand  have  determined  them,  it  is  still  true 
that  any  other  relation  must  itself  have  given  terms.    Thus 
every  possible  universal  proposition  must  have  its  contingent 

aspect.  . 

That  Kant's  own  position  in  the  matter  is  not  wholly  in  accor- 
dance with  this  statement  is  well  known.    The  formal  determma- 
tion  of  all  possible  experience  is,  indeed,  a  prominent  doctnne 
of  the  Critique.     Not  only  must  every  judgment  be  determmed 
a  priori  as  to  its  form  by  the  categories,  but  every  perception 
must  also  be  subject  to  the  forms  of  space  and  time.     Indeed, 
sensations  themselves,  in  so  far  as  they  belong  to  experience  at 
all,  are  already  determined.    To  be  given,  is  to  be  brought  under 
the  necessary  conditions  of  experience.    The  purely  contingent, 
therefore,  the  'matter  of  sensation,'  remains  an  abstraction  to 
the  end .     It  is  a  limiting  conception,  a  mere  instrument  of  analy- 
sis     Matter  and  form,  contingency  and  necessity,  however  far 
we  may  carry  our  analysis  of  thought,  present  an  indissoluble 
union     This  is  not  Kantian  language,  but  it  is  unmistakably 
the  doctrine  of  the  Critique.     Nevertheless,  it  is  not  to  be  denied 
that  Kant  draws  conclusions  which  are  not  in  accordance  with 
this  doctrine.    As  we  shall  try  to  show,  these  spring  inevitably 
from  the  critical  failure,  or  refusal,  to  admit  the  complementary 
thesis,  namely,  that  every  universal  proposition  contains  an  ele- 
ment of  contingency.  . 
If  "percepts  without  concepts  are  blind,"  in  the  Kantian  die- 


76 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


turn,  it  is  equally  true  that  "concepts  without  percepts  are 
empty."  The  conditions  of  the  possibility  of  experience,  except 
as  they  receive  some  particular  filling  in  the  actual  course  of 
experience,  are  without  significance.  Their  objective  validity 
depends  on  their  reference  to  given  objects.  But  while  the  valid- 
ity of  any  universal  proposition  depends  on  its  reference  to  con- 
tingent fact,  the  content  of  the  universal  proposition,  as  such, 
is  supposed  by  Kant  to  contain  no  element  of  contingency.  That 
is  to  say,  while  the  universal  must  depend  for  its  validity  on 
particular  given  experiences,  the  meaning  of  the  abstract  univer- 
sal as  such  remains  the  same  no  matter  what  the  particular 
filling  may  be.  But  a  proposition  which  remains  unchanged  in 
meaning,  no  matter  to  what  contingent  particulars  it  may  have 
reference,  is  a  necessary  truth  pure  and  simple. 

It  is  the  purity  of  the  categories  of  the  understanding,  that  is, 
their  absolute  separation  from  all  the  particularity  of  perception, 
which  makes  necessary  the  device  of  the  schematism.  Each 
category  has  in  itself  a  certain  sort  of  meaning,  that  is,  it  may  be 
formally  defined  in  purely  universal  terms;  but  as  thus  defined 
it  can  never  be  applied  to  any  objects  of  experience.  It  is,  how- 
ever, capable  of  being  given  an  interpretation  in  terms  of  per- 
ception; and  it  is  as  so  interpreted  (schematized)  that  it  enters 
into  experience.  What  connection  there  is  between  the  formal 
definition  of  the  category  and  its  schema,  is  left  wholly  unex- 
plained. Thus  substance  is  defined  as  ''that  which  may  be  con- 
ceived as  subject,  without  itself  being  predicate  of  anything  else." 
As  schematized,  however,  it  becomes  the  permanent  in  time. 
Certainly  the  ground  of  connection  between  these  two  meanings 
is  far  to  seek.  Indeed,  as  is  well  known,  Kant  says  of  the  schema- 
tism that  it  is  ''an  art  hidden  in  the  depths  of  the  human  soul, 
the  true  secrets  of  which  we  shall  hardly  ever  be  able  to  guess 
and  reveal." 

We  have  only  to  state  Kant's  position  clearly,  in  order  to  see 
both  its  near  affinity  to,  and  its  divergence  from,  rationalism. 
In  showing  that  no  particular  contingent  proposition    can  be 


THE   CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY 


77 


framed,  that  is  not  in  itself  already  partly  determined  a  priori, 
Kant  has  passed  beyond  rationalism.     But  his  treatment  of  uni- 
versal is  by  no  means  free  from  rationalistic  assumptions.     That 
is,  while  he  maintains  that  no  universal  can  have  meaning  or  valid- 
ity except  through  reference  to  contingency,  he  supposes  that 
there  are  universal  propositions  which  in  their  own  content  con- 
tain no  contingent  element— whose  meaning  is  wholly  independent 
of  their  application.     While  such  universal  propositions  are  not  in 
themselves  knowledge— are,  in  fact,  mere  "cobwebs  of  the  brain" 
—we  may  use  them  as  premises  and  deduce  consequences  from 
them,  which  become  valid  knowledge  through  their  reference 
to  possible  experience,  or  rather  to  the  possibility  of  experience. 
Our  present  concern  is,  not  to  refute  this  position,  but  to  point 
out  its  inherent  rationalism.     For  to  suppose  that  universals, 
which  do  not  in  themselves  contain  their  reference  to  experience, 
do  yet  have  such  reference,  is  to  assume  that  there  are  relations 
wholly  external  to  the  terms  which  they  relate.     Furthermore, 
to  suppose  that  essentially  meaningless  propositions  are  yet  capa- 
ble of  standing  in  logical  relations  which  possess  formal  cogency, 
is  to  assume  that  validity  of  logical  relationship  is  wholly  external 
to  the  meaning  of  the  terms  related.     In  one  sense  it  is  true  that 
Kant  transcends  this;  namely,  in  his  insistence  that  it  is  because, 
and  only  because,  universals  do  bear  a  relation  to  experience 
that  they  have  significance  and  validity.     Yet  in  conceiving  that 
this  relation  is  not  constitutive  of  their  very  universality,  he  fails 
to  give  any  logical  ground  for  their  reference  to  experience. 

Again,  what  is  the  'experience'  to  which  universals  must  refer 
to  gain  validity?  To  suppose  that  universals  may,  in  abstraction 
from  their  experiential  filling,  perform  logical  functions,  is  to 
suppose  that  one  may  abstract  the  universal  as  such.  But  if  the 
universal  as  such  is  abstracted,  the  'experience,'  apart  from  the 
universal  thus  abstracted,  must  be  the  contingent  as  such.  Fi- 
nally, we  wish  to  call  attention  to  the  essential  rationalism  of  the 
conception  of  the  nature  of  abstraction,  which  is  implied  in  this 
treatment  of  universals.     It  is  conceived  that  the  process  of  ab- 


7^ 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


THE   CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY 


79 


4 


straction  does  not  affect  the  content  of  what  is  abstracted.  This 
is,  of  course,  the  logical  form  of  the  ontological  doctrine  so  fa- 
miliar to  us  in  rationalism,  that  the  essential  nature  of  a  thing  is 
not  affected  by  a  change  in  its  relations. 

In  the  foregoing  pages,  our  discussion  of  criticism  has  clung 
very  closely  to  Kant,  and  has  referred  in  great  measure  to  specifi- 
cally Kantian  doctrines.  We  intend  it,  however,  to  have  a  larger 
scope,  applying  not  only  to  what  is  peculiarly  his,  but  to  the 
critical  philosophy  generally.  To  the  reader  the  objection  may 
seem  pertinent,  that  the  development  of  the  critical  philosophy 
by  Kant's  successors  has  so  transformed  the  original  doctrine, 
that  our  arguments,  as  applied  to  its  later  forms,  become  irrele- 
vant. But  if  criticism  be  taken  to  include  all  the  doctrines  of 
all  the  thinkers  that  have  drawn  their  inspiration  from  the  Kan- 
tian Critiques,  one  may  safely  say  that  no  thesis  will  be  found  to 
hold  concerning  it.  Let  us,  then,  define  criticism  as  the  theory, 
that  thought  has  a  certain  definite  form  or  mode  of  procedure, 
which  is  universally  characteristic  of  it,  and,  indeed,  is  essential 
to  its  systematic  unity;  and  that  the  description  of  this  form 
constitutes,  therefore,  a  body  of  absolutely  necessary  truth. 
That  the  argument  advanced  in  the  foregoing  pages  with  reference 
to  the  critical  theory  as  held  by  Kant  applies  at  the  same  time 
to  criticism  as  here  defined,  will  appear  evident,  we  believe,  upon 
consideration. 

If  thought  has  a  form  universally  characteristic  of  it,  or  in 
other  words,  conforms  to  some  universal  law  or  laws  of  procedure, 
then  the  formulation  of  such  law  or  laws  becomes  a  set  of  neces- 
sary propositions  valid  for  all  experience.  These  necessary  propo- 
sitions, then,  must  form  a  body  of  truth  whose  relation  to 
other  knowledge  not  thus  necessary  forms  precisely  the  same 
problem  with  which  rationalism  struggled  in  vain.  Criticism's 
issue  with  rationalism  and  empiricism  lies  in  its  conception  of 
universality  as  the  formal  aspect  of  all  knowledge.  If  universal- 
ity is,  indeed,  a  characteristic  of  all  experience  so  far  as  deter- 


mined, it  ceases  to  be,  by  that  very  fact,  the  peculiar  character- 
istic of  any  proposition  or  set  of  propositions.     If  determined  at 
all,  knowledge  must  in  so  far  be  universal  or  necessary,  and  to 
belong  to  experience  or  to  be  knowledge  means  to  be  determined. 
In  this  conclusion,  that  all  knowledge  is  necessary,  the  concept  of 
necessity  has  itself  become  transformed.     It  no  longer  stands  for 
an  immediately  given,  as  in  rationalistic  logic.     The  necessity 
of  truth  does  not  lie  in  the  isolation  of  its  absolute  self-sufficiency, 
but  in  its  inherent  dependence  on  the  entire  system  of  knowledge. 
Its  validity  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  validity  of  all  other  truth. 
But  as  the  system  is  likewise  contingent  through  and  through, 
no  validity  is  more  than  relative  validity.     That  is  to  say,  no 
proposition  is  more  than  approximately  universal.     Pure  uni- 
versality is  a  limit  never  fully  reached.     Just  as  no  analysis  of 
experience  can,  as  Kant  showed,  yield  us  the  final  product- 
bare  matter  of  sensation,  pure  contingency— so  no  analysis  ever 
reaches  the  pure  universal. 

It  has  been  pointed  out  by  Kant's  successors,  that  the  ultimate- 
ness  of  the  Kantian  distinction  between  form  and  content  does 
not  hold,  and  that,  furthermore,  on  Kant's  own  principles  it 
does  not  hold.     It  is,  so  it  is  agreed,  a  doctrine  inconsistent 
with  the  implied  logic  of  the  critical  philosophy.     Now  it  is  true 
that  the  separation  of  form  and  content  is  inconsistent  with 
criticism,  so  far  as  criticism  conceives  necessity  as  the  universal 
conditionality  of  thought.     But  it  is  the  prerequisite  assumption 
of  criticism,  so  far  as  criticism  maintains  that  any  particular  law 
or  laws  form  the  indispensable  condition  of  experience.     The 
fundamental  ambiguity  of  criticism  lies  in  its  holding  at  once 
these  two  doctrines:  first,  that  knowledge  to  belong  to  experience 
must  conform  to  conditions,  or,  in  other  words,  that  knowledge 
as  such  must  be  conditional  and  in  so  far  universal ;  and,  secondly, 
that  there  are  particular  describable  conditions  to  which  all  knowl- 
edge must  conform.     If  there  are  any  particular  conditions  neces- 
sary to  experience,  and  these  are  capable  of  formulation,  then 
that  very  formulation  yields  propositions  which  are  merely  for- 


So 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


THE   CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY 


8i 


mal,  and  which  themselves  contain  no  content.  If  it  be  argued, 
that  this  does  not  involve  the  ultimate  separation  of  form  and 
content,  since  these  purely  formal  propositions  are  valid  only 
with  reference  to  experience,  we  may  at  once  reply  that  to  con- 
ceive pure  forms  which  apply  indifferently  to  all  content,  is  to 
conceive  their  applicabilty  as  not  dependent  on  the  nature  of 
that  content,  and  hence  logically  unrelated  to  any  content. 

A  more  important  modification  of  the  Kantian  position  than 
the  one  we  have  just  discussed  is  the  elimination  of  the  thing-in- 
itself ,  by  those  successors  of  Kant  regarded  as  most  truly  carrying 
out  the  critical  principles.  This  doctrine  too,  it  is  urged,  is  in- 
consistent with  the  implied  logic  of  the  critical  philosophy.  The 
concept  of  an  unknowable  thing-in-itself,  lying  beyond  the  limits 
of  possible  experience,  is  an  utterly  useless  conception,  playing 
no  real  part  in  the  system.  Its  only  alleged  connection  with 
experience  lies  in  the  assumption  that  it  is  the  source  of  the  un- 
formed ''matter  of  sensation."  But  since  no  such  bare  matter 
is  to  be  discovered  in  experience,  the  positing  of  a  source  for 
it  becomes  simply  gratuitous.  Indeed,  so  it  is  argued,  if  sensa- 
tion did  yield  an  utterly  unorganized  matter,  its  organization  in 
experience  would  be  entirely  impossible.  In  short,  criticism  is 
concerned  only  with  the  conditions  of  possible  experience,  and 
what  lies  beyond  experience  is  altogether  outside  its  scope. 

If  the  argument  of  the  preceding  pages  has  carried  any  weight 
to  the  reader*s  mind,  it  must  appear  evident  that  Kant's  assump- 
tion of  the  thing-in-itself  is  by  no  means  gratuitous;  that,  on 
the  contrary,  it  is  a  conception  of  vital  importance  not  only  to 
the  Kantian  theory,  but  to  the  critical  philosophy  generally. 
For  if  it  is  said  that  the  relations  we  find  in  experience,  the 
terms  in  which  we  think,  are  relations  essential  to  the  nature  of 
thought,  this  must  mean  that  these  relations  constitute  the 
nature  of  thought  as  such,  and  must  hold  of  experience  univer- 
sally. These  relations,  then,  in  belonging  to  the  nature  of  thought 
as  such,  are  not  inherent  in,  or  constitutive  of,  the  elements 
which  they  connect.     If  they  were,  the  claim  that  they  owed 


their  validity  to  the  nature  of  thought,  would  lose  all  relevancy. 
Forms  of  thought,  universal  relations,  must  be  relations  as  suchf 
—relations  indifferent  to,  and  hence  external  to,  the  terms  which 
they  relate.  Being  thus  external,  they  must  remain  inoperative 
unless  there  is  posited  a  somewhat  for  them  to  connect ;  and  this 
somewhat,  not  being  constituted  by  the  relations,  must  be  con- 
ceived as  a  bare  matter,  whose  ground  can  only  be  sought  in  a 
contentless  thing-in-itself— or,  having  no  ground,  it  becomes  it- 
self a  thing-in-itself. 

The  question  may  become  clearer  upon  comparing  the  critical 
position  with  that  of  rationalism.  The  demand  of  rationalism 
for  substance  was  fundamentally  a  demand  for  a  reality  not 
constituted  by  relations.  The  series  of  conditions  must  find  a 
final  source  in  the  unconditional,  that  is,  in  a  categorical  proposi- 
tion. The  imperativeness  of  this  demand  for  a  categorical  source 
for  conditional  propositions  arose  from  the  fact  that  conditional 
propositions  were  regarded  as  wholly  conditional.  The  idea  that 
there  could  be  no  final  distinction  between  conditional  and  exis- 
tential propositions  was  wholly  foreign  to  the  logic  of  rationalism. 
For  plainly,  if  conditional  judgments  involved  in  themselves  a 
categorical  element,  the  positing  of  a  distinct,  purely  categorical 
proposition  would  be  purposeless. 

Now  the  position  which  criticism  takes  is  that  the  series  of 
conditions  cannot  be  traced  to  a  final  categorical  source,  for  such 
source  would  lie  beyond  the  limits  of  experience.     It  therefore 
assumes  that  a  certain  set  of  conditional  propositions  must  be 
final  for  experience.     But  if  criticism  indeed  recognized  that  con- 
ditional judgments  as  such  contained  categorical  implications, 
it  would  have  no  ground  for  assuming  the  finality  of  any  given 
set  of  conditions.     The  demand  for  finality  would  lose  all  perti- 
nence.   What  we  wish  to  point  out  here  is  that  the  conception  of  a 
set  of  final  conditions,  which  lies  at  the  very  root  of  criticism, 
inevitably  carries  with  it  the  demand  for  a  final  given  somewhat 
to  which  these  conditions  may  be  applied.     In  short,  we  must 
conclude  that  without  the  conception  of  a  thing-in-itself,  the 
whole  critical  contention  falls  to  the  ground. 


ri    iiiii  ififc  #iliilBiiai 


aataa 


82 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


THE   CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY 


83 


There  has  recently  become. current  a  belief,  that  a  very  close 
affinity  to  the  present-day  theory  of  pragmatism  is  to  be  found  in 
Kant's  regulative  ideas  of  reason.  Leaving  aside  their  signifi- 
cance for  the  moral  life  (which  we  shall  discuss  later,  and  which 
is  irrevelant  to  our  immediate  purpose),  their  significance  for 
theoretical  reason  depends  solely  on  their  function.  They  are 
never  realized  in  any  experience;  that  is  to  say,  no  analysis  of  a 
given  experience  can  reveal  them  as  verified  in  it.  Yet  they  are 
essential  to  thought;  for  it  is  through  their  use  that  given  ex- 
periences become  organized  into  the  larger  unity  of  experience 
as  a  whole.  Their  kinship  with  pragmatism  thus  appears  upon 
their  face.  Kant  seems  to  say  of  them  what  the  pragmatist 
would  say  of  all  conceptions — that  while  they  are  never  com- 
pletely satisfied  by  any  application  of  them,  yet  they  serve  to 
bring  unity  to  our  thought,  and  in  this  service,  if  in  no  other, 
find  their  sanction. 

Striking  as  this  similarity  to  pragmatism  appears  to  be,  a 
closer  examination  of  the  Kantian  doctrine  will  show,  we  believe, 
that  these  regulative  principles  are  neither  more  nor  less  closely 
related  to  pragmatism  than  are  the  constitutive  principles.  In 
the  first  place,  while  they  are  instrumental  in  the  sense  that  their 
significance  depends  wholly  on  their  usefulness,  they  are  indis- 
pensable instruments  for  the  organization  of  thought.  Conse- 
quently they  are  not,  like  the  principles  of  pragmatism,  subject 
to  correction.  They  bear  none  of  the  ear-marks  of  evolution. 
They  are  constructions  of  reason  itself,  created  once  for  all  by 
reason  for  its  own  ends,  without  reference  to  the  experience  to 
which  they  must  be  applied,  and  thus  serve  but  to  emphasize  the 
dualism  between  reason  and  the  existent.  True,  they  are  to  be 
assumed  as  mere  as  ifs;  but  their  'as  if  is  not  the  'as  if  of  an 
instrumental  logic,  for  they  are  not  provisional.  They  are  never 
to  be  replaced  by  more  workable  conceptions.  In  short  they 
bear  the  unmistakable  stamp  of  dogmatic  absolutism.  In  the 
second  place,  Kant  says  of  them  that  their  function  is  merely 
to  arrange  the  results  of  experience,  without  at  all  affecting  the 


content  of  what  is  thus  arranged.  They  organize  the  product 
of  the  understanding,  just  as  the  categories  organize  the  product 
of  sense-perception.  That  is,  they  are  pure  form  separated  from 
all  content,  relations  absolutely  external  to  what  they  relate. 

In  the  beginning  of  our  discussion  of  the  critical  philosophy, 
we  found  that  the  application  of  a  priori  forms  of  thought  to 
content  is  impossible  of  explanation.  Since  the  a  priori  form  is  a 
relationship  which  does  not  determine  in  any  degree  the  terms 
to  be  related,  there  is  no  rational  ground  for  its  application  to 
these  terms,  and  the  use  of  the  forms  becomes  wholly  arbitrary. 
From  this  it  follows  that  if  the  ideas  of  reason  are  not  constitutive 
of  experience  they  cease  to  be  even  regulative. 

The  inherent  rationalism  of  the  ideas  of  reason  comes  out 
most  plainly  in  Kant's  conception  of  symbolic  anthropomorphism. 
The  objects  to  which  these  ideas  refer,  viz.,  a  supreme  being, 
an  intelligible  world,  and  an  immaterial  being,  are  objects  which 
can  never  be  realized  in  any  experience.     Reason  is  utterly  in- 
capable of  knowing  them.    They  must  remain  mere  illusions. 
Yet  even  as  illusions  reason  is  forced  to  assume  them  in  order 
to  bring  unity  within  experience.     The  reconciliation  of  the  de- 
mand which  reason  feels  for  going  beyond  experience,  with  its 
inability  to  do  so,  is  found  by  Kant  to  lie  in  the  limitation  of  our 
judgment  concerning  these  noumenal  objects  strictly  to  the  re- 
lation which  they  bear  to  the  world  as  we  know  it,  without 
ascribing  to  them  the  possession  of  any  qualities  in  themselves. 
Thus  we  may,  and  even  must,  regard  the  organic  world  as  if 
the  work  of  a  supreme  will  and  understanding;  but  in  so  judging 
the  world  we  do  not  in  the  least  assert  anything  concerning  the 
nature  of  the  supreme  being.    Knowledge  of  the  relation  of  God  to 
the  world  constitutes  in  no  degree  a  knowledge  of  God.  ^  As  Kant 
himself  expresses  it,  we  have  in  the  comparison  of  God's  relation 
to  the  world  to  an  artisan's  relation  to  his  production,  an  exam- 
ple, note  f  an  imperfect  similarity  between  terms,  but  of  a  perfect 
similarity  of  relationship  between  terms  which  in  themselves  are 
utterly  disparate.^    Surely  this  is  outdoing  rationalism  itself. 

Prolegomena,  §  58. 


I 


84 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


THE  CRITICAL   PHILOSOPHY 


85 


But  we  cannot  discuss  Kant's  regulative  principles  without 
reference  to  their  function  in  the  moral  life.  Indeed,  it  is  in  the 
fact  of  their  common  functioning  in  the  world  of  conduct  and 
in  the  world  of  thought  that  the  contemporary  pragmatist  is 
wont  to  feel  his  closest  kinship  with  criticism.  In  the  realm  of 
speculative  reason,  the  ideas  of  God,  the  world,  and  the  soul 
remain  mere  empty  conceptions.  Their  objects  lie  beyond  the 
reach  of  thought.  Their  only  sanction  lies  in  the  constant  im- 
pulse of  thought  to  go  beyond  its  boundaries.  If  this  were  all 
that  could  be  said  on  their  behalf,  the  position  of  the  regulative 
ideas  would  be  precarious  indeed.  But  to  consider  only  their 
function  in  theoretical  knowledge  is  to  leave  out  of  account  the 
most  important  part  which  they  play  in  the  life  of  man.  For  if 
theoretically  they  have  no  validity,  practically  they  are  neces- 
sary. Although  their  objects  must  remain  altogether  unknow- 
able by  speculative  thought,  in  the  moral  life  is  found  indubitable 
assurance  of  their  reality.  They  are  the  postulates  of  practical 
reason,  the  necessary  conditions  for  the  possibility  of  moral  con- 
duct. Now  this  conception  of  the  ideas  of  reason,  as  obtaining 
their  ultimate  sanction  in  the  sphere  of  conduct,  would  seem  to 
accord  to  practical  reason  a  certain  supremacy  over  speculative 
thought.  It  is  in  the  practical  life  that  the  final  solution  is 
found  of  problems  which  prove  insoluble  for  thought.  In  so 
far  as  this  is  true,  the  Kantian  conception  of  regulative  ideas 
doubtless  does  exhibit  a  leaning  toward  such  a  voluntarism  as  is 
often  associated  with  pragmatism.  Furthermore  a  certain  simi- 
larity to  the  pragmatist  theory  is  to  be  found  in  the  very  fact 
that  the  regulative  principles  serve  to  unite  conduct  with  specu- 
lative thought.  But  here  again  we  find  that  the  resemblance 
to  pragmatism  is  far  less  than  appears  at  first  sight,  and  that 
the  half-acceptance  of  an  instrumentalist  position  serves  to  em- 
phasize the  critical  adherence  to  dogmatic  absolutism. 

In  the  first  i^lace,  let  us  note  that  the  validity  which  the  moral 
consciousness  furnishes  to  the  ideas  of  reason  does  not  in  the 
least  affect  their  function  for  thought ;  they  are  valid  for  practical 


reason  only.  The  world  of  moral  conduct  as  such  is  a  world 
utterly  beyond  the  scope  of  thought.  The  very  fact  that  the 
connection  of  theoretical  and  practical  reason  is  found  to  lie  in 
such  transcendent  ideas  as  God,  the  world,  and  the  soul,  is  a 
denial  of  that  intimate  relationship  of  conceptual  thought  to  con- 
duct, upon  which  pragmatism  so  earnestly  insists. 

In  the  second  place,  we  cannot  refrain  from  pointing  out  the 
absolutism  involved  in  Kant's  conception  of  the  regulative  ideas 
as  postulates  of  practical  reason.     It  is  true  that  their  validity 
lies  in  the  service  that  they  perform ;  but  it  is  an  indispensable 
service.     The  validity  of  these  concepts  within  the  sphere  of 
practical  reason  is  absolute.     Morality  is  not  a  developing  func- 
tion, the  nature  of  which  becomes  modified  with  the  modification 
of   other   activities.     The  whole   Kantian   conception   of  it  is 
thoroughly  rationalistic.     The  morality  of  any  act  is  determined 
by  the  nature  of  the  act  as  such,  and  remains  unaffected  by  the 
relation  which  that  act  may  have  to  other  acts.     The  place  of 
the  act  in  the  phenomenal  series  of  conditions  is  utterly  irrelevant 
to  its  moral  value.     Furthermore,  its  moral  value  remains  wholly 
unaffected,  whether  such  an  act  has  ever  taken  place  or  ever 
will  take  place.     In  other  words,  moral  values  are  absolutely 
independent  of  content  on  the  one  hand  and  of  existence  on  the 
other. 


I 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


87 


CHAPTER   II 


ABSOLUTE    IDEALISM 


The  chief  enemy  of  dogmatism  during  the  last  hundred  years 
has  been  the  Hegelian  philosophy.  This  has  been  the  great 
liberator  of  human  thought — if  only,  as  many  believe,  to  plunge 
it  into  a  new  slavery  deeper  than  the  old. 

To  deal  in  summary  fashion  with  absolute  idealism  is  not  a 
task  to  be  lightly  undertaken.  It  has  been  as  prolific  in  sects 
as  if  it  were  a  religion — perhaps  because  for  many  it  has  been  a 
religion — and  the  sects  are  as  radically  opposed  to  each  other  as 
to  any  adversary  from  without.  We  have,  indeed,  always  the 
writings  of  the  master  himself  to  refer  to;  and  in  comparison 
w^ith  these  no  other  productions  of  the  school  are  of  first-class 
importance.  But  here  one  must  strain  to  comprehend  a  mind 
both  subtle  and  profound,  expressing  itself  in  a  technical  language 
of  unparalleled  obscurity.  The  danger  is  that  one  may  find  as 
many  conflicting  doctrines  in  the  master  as  the  sectarians  have 
divided  amongst  themselves;  or,  even  more,  that  in  spite  of  the 
lessoning  of  a  century  of  controversy  we  may  be  sectarians  our- 
selves. Fortunately,  however,  the  matters  with  which  we  have 
here  to  deal  are  of  a  very  elementary  character,  so  that  it  may 
not  be  impossible  to  interpret  them  in  a  form  which  will  be  fairly 
adequate  and  generally  acceptable. 

In  the  present  chapter,  we  propose  to  discuss,  first,  the  opposi- 
tion of  Hegelianism  to  the  dogmatic  logic;  and,  secondly,  the 
extent  to  which  the  presuppositions  of  the  latter  may  still  be 
retained  by  the  former,  and  the  difficulties  and  uncertainties 
to  which  they  may  continue  to  give  rise. 

Just  a  word  may  be  premised  as  to  the  attitude  of  absolute 
idealism  toward  empiricism.  (Observe  that  we  speak  of  empiri- 
cism as  a  philosophy,  not  of  empirical  science.)     It  is  one  of 

86 


almost  entire  misappreciation.     This  is  the  great  defect  of  HegeFs 
own  intellectual  equipment,  and  it  has  very  generally  character- 
ized his  followers.     It  is  true  that  to  Hegel  we  owe  some  very 
incisive  criticisms  of  the  empiricist  procedure ;  but  we  also  owe 
to  him  a  burdensome  inheritance  of  misconception  and  prejudice. 
Of  the  very  meaning  of  psychological  analysis,  as  the  English 
school  had  developed  it,  he  had  but  a  hazy  impression.     The 
analysis  of  ideas  appeared  to  him  to  be  nothing  more  or  less  than 
an  enumeration  of  the  attributes  and  properties  of  things.     Least 
of  all  did  he  suspect  the  damaging  inroads  which  the  empiricist 
could  make  upon  his  own  position.     Hegel  accepted  without 
reserve  the  rationalistic  distinction  between  the  generalized  image 
and  the  conception,  and  he  was  inclined  to  set  down  those  who 
denied  the  separate  existence  of  the  latter,  as  no  philosophers. 
It  is  true  that  the  evolution-idea  gave  him  a  new  mode  of  formu- 
lating the  relation  between  image  and  conception.     The  latter  is 
an  outgrowth  of  the  former,  a  higher  stage  of  its  development. 
But  of  this  essentially  psychological  relation  only  a  logical'  ac- 
count is  given:  all  the  stages  of  mental  development  exhibit 
the  same  content  under  more  or  less  adequate /(?m5.     The  intense 
contempt  which  Hegel  everywhere  exhibits  for  psychological  con- 
siderations throws  a  curious  side-light  upon  his  own  limitations. 
But  Hegel  not  only  misunderstands  empiricist  doctrine.     He 
is  thoroughly  out  of  sympathy  with  the  empiricist  temper.     Its 
modesty  is  a  perpetual  affront  to  him.     His  own  ideal  of  science 
is  one  in  which  facts  are  ultimately  useful  only  for  the  illustration 
of  principles;  and  a  curiosity  which  is  confined  to  the  limits  of 
experience,  which  proposes  to  itself  nothing  beyond  the  descrip- 
tion and  generalization  of  facts,  appears  to  him  to  be  far  beneath 
the  full  dignity  of  man.     That  a  philosopher  should  pride  himself 
upon  his  self-imposed  reserve,  is  as  far  from  his  conception  of 
propriety,  as  that  he  should  be  proud  of  his  ignorance. 

In  Hegel's  opinion,  the  history  of  empiricism  marks  a  distinct 
divergence  from  the  forward  development  of  philosophy— in- 
evitable, as  such  divergences  ever  are,  and  in  a  manner  justified 


y\\ 


88 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


89 


h 


by  the  fatal  narrowness  and  abstractness  of  rationalism,  but  a 
divergence  none  the  less.  It  is  philosophy  passed  out  of  itself 
into  its  other;  or,  as  it  is  somewhere  expressed,  it  is  a  kind  of 
philosophy  in  the  same  sense  in  which  darkness  is  a  kind  of  light. 
In  a  word,  Hegel's  opposition  to  empiricism  is  as  strong  as  his 
own  principles  permitted  him  to  assume  toward  any  philosophy 
whatsoever.  This,  we  repeat,  appears  to  us  to  be  his  most  serious 
limitation;  and  it  may  be  added,  that  in  Great  Britain,  where  the 
Hegelian  philosophy  is  now  most  strongly  established,  this  origi- 
nal limitation  has  only  become  more  prominent  by  reason  of  the 
long  and  bitter  warfare  with  the  empirical  philosophy,  whose 
reign  its  invasion  disturbed. 

The  cleft  between  absolute  idealism  and  the  old  logic  is  most 
strikingly  displayed  in  the  theory  of  relations.  While  for  the 
dogmatists  these  had  been  invariably  external  to  the  essence  of 
the  terms  related,  for  absolute  idealism  the  essences  of  things 
are  wholly  constituted  by  their  relations.  It  may  be  of  assistance 
to  us  in  our  endeavor  to  appreciate  the  absolutist  position,  if  we 
retrace,  in  a  general  and  schematic  way,  the  thought-transition 
by  which  this  revolutionary  change  was  effected. 

The  long  continued  controversy  over  the  heliocentric  hypothe- 
sis was  sufficient  to  familiarize  even  the  popular  mind  with  the 
idea,  that  rest  and  motion — at  least  in  the  ordinary  application 
of  the  terms — do  not  appertain  to  things  as  they  are  in  them- 
selves, but  only  to  things  in  definite  relation  to  other  things. 
Whether  there  must  be  assumed  an  absolute  standard  underlying 
these  relativities,  remained  a  question  for  the  learned ;  and  both 
sides  were  taken  by  eminent  authorities.  From  the  end  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  however,  the  relativistic  position  was, 
though  widely  questioned,  a  commonplace  of  scientific  theory. 

Intimately  associated  with  the  foregoing  and,  no  less  attractive 
to  the  speculative  mind,  was  the  theory  of  the  relativity  of  spatial 
magnitude.  This,  too,  met  with  scepticism,  but  the  common 
intelligence  had  long  embraced  it  as  self-evident.     The  celebrated 


exposition  of  the  theory  by  Laplace  simply  confirmed  its  hold. 
Closely  bound  up,  again,  with  spatial  relativity  is  the  relativity 
of  temporal  position  and  magnitude;  for  time  is  habitually  treated 
by  the  scientist  as  a  sort  of  one-dimensional  space.  When  this 
also  has  been  embraced,  there  remains  no  convincing  reason  for 
questioning  the  similar  nature  of  the  mechanical  concepts  of 
mass  and  force.  The  general  doctrine,  then,  of  the  relativity 
of  all  the  primary  qualities  of  matter  becomes  so  far  from  para- 
doxical,'that  it  is  apt  to  meet  with  unquestioning  acceptance. 

But  the  primary  qualities  of  matter  are  precisely  those  upon 
which  rationalism  had  fixed  as  constituting  its  essence.  The 
relativity  of  the  secondary  qualities  had  been  recognized  by  Des- 
cartes, and  it  was  for  this  reason  that  he  branded  them  as  mere 
appearance.  Precisely  the  same  conclusion  was  therefore  natural 
in  the  case  of  the  primary  qualities.  Leibniz  actually  reached 
this  conclusion  with  respect  to  extension;  and  only  the  then  cha- 
otic state  of  elementary  mechanics  permitted  him  to  avoid  equally 
condemning  motion  and  energy.  When  therefore,  the  mechan- 
ical theory  of  the  eighteenth  century  had  assumed  its  classi- 
cal form,  the  time  was  ripe  for  the  announcement  of  the  thesis, 
that  all  the  knowable  qualities  of  material  things  are  determined 
by  their  relations  to  other  things,  and  hence  are  merely  phe- 
nomenal . 

This  conclusion  was  facilitated  by  another  consideration, 
which,  however,  for  the  rationalists  was  not  clearly  distinct  from 
the  foregoing.  The  observable  qualities  of  things  are  not 
only  relative  in  the  sense  of  owing  their  meaning  to  their  implied 
reference  to  the  qualitites  of  other  things.  They  are  also  (with 
the  exception  of  mass^)  relative  in  the  sense  that  they  change  in 

iWe  are  not  surprised  to  find  a  disposition  to  identify  the  concept  of  mass  with 
that  of  matter  itself.  Size  and  shape,  density  and  velocity  are  then  recognized  as 
accidents:  but  the  material  body  not  only  has  mass,  but  is  the  mass.  Otherwise 
put,  mass  shows  an  evident  tendency  to  replace  extension  as  the  essence  of  matter. 
But  aside  from  the  fact  that  its  'mathematical'  relativity  is  a  fatal  obstacle  to  a 
strictly  rationalistic  interpretation,  there  is  a  further  difficulty  yet  to  be  men- 
tioned. It  is  readily  perceived  that  the  concept  of  mass  has  hieaning  for  us  only 
in  connection  with  those  of  duration,  extension,  and  force.     Mass  may.  indeed, 


90 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


91 


accordance  with  change  in  their  relations.  That  is  to  say,  the 
relativity  is  not  simply  mathematical,  but  also  dynamical.  Fur- 
thermore, in  the  dynamical  as  well  as  in  the  mathematical  sense 
of  the  term,  the  relativity  is  not  to  a  few  things,  or  even  to  things 
in  general,  but  to  the  universe  as  a  system  of  interrelated  things. 
This  is  the  principle  of  universal  reciprocal  determination,  for 
which  Newton  gave  a  solid  basis  by  his  discovery  of  the  law  of 
gravitation,  and  which  Leibniz  proclaimed,  while  he  yet  denied 
it,  in  his  theory  of  the  preestablished  harmony. 

If  then  the  distinction  between  the  essential  and  the  relative 
was  anywhere  to  be  made  out,  it  would  have  to  be  in  the  case  of 
thinking  substances,  or  souls.  But,  in  the  first  place,  where  a 
distinct  class  of  such  substances  was  recognized,  they  had  always 
been  treated  after  the  analog>^  of  material  substances.  This  was, 
of  course,  unavoidably  true,  where  the  characteristics  of  the  soul- 
substance  were  simply  the  negatives  of  those  of  all  (or  some) 
material  things:  simple,  incorruptible,  immortal,  etc.  But  it  was 
also  true  of  its  own  peculiar  attribute  of  thinking,  which  was 
always  thought  of  in  express  opposition  to  the  material  attribute 
of  extension.  A  changed  interpretation  of  the  latter  was  therefore 
bound  in  some  measure  to  affect  the  former.  In  the  second  place, 
a  line  of  argument  precisely  similar  to  that  which  had  transformed 
the  material  attributes  into  relations  was  readily  applicable  to  the 
qualities  and  functions  of  the  soul.  Whether  the  essence  of  the 
soul  was  (with  Descartes)  to  think,  or  (with  Leibniz)  the  energy 
by  which  its  ideas,  conscious  or  unconscious,  are  determined,  it 
was  necessary  that  this  essence  be  inseparable  from  the  soul- 
substance,  and,  independently  of  everything  else,  equally  char- 
acterize it  at  all  times.  But  so  far  as  unprejudiced  observation 
could  show,  the  soul's  faculty  of  thought  or  ideation  is  quite  as 
relative  to  circumstances  as  the  color  or  density  of  matter.     To 

be  said  to  be  a  name  for  the  fact,  that  a  given  force,  acting  upon  different  bodies, 
produces  in  a  given  time  accelerations  that  vary  only  from  body  to  body.  Now 
since  a  force  acting  upon  one  body  is  always  a  strain  between  two,  it  is  obvious 
that  mass  does  not  belong  to  any  particular  body  apart  from  its  dynamic  relations 
to  other  bodies. 


all  appearances,  it  is  dependent  not  only  upon  the  stimuli  and 
distractions  of  the  outer  world,  but  upon  the  condition  of  the 
nervous  mechanism.  In  the  third  place,  the  concept  of  soul- 
substance  had  itself,  with  Kant,  fallen  under  suspicion.  That 
of  material  substance  had  at  least  found  a  new  excuse  for  being 
in  the  doctrine  of  the  conservation  of  mass.  But  among  the 
observ'able  qualities  or  contents  of  the  soul  there  is  no  such 
constant  factor— nothing  beyond  the  empty  abstraction  by  which 
its  manifold  ideas  are  subsumed  under  the  identity  of  one  con- 
sciousness. 

The  reader  will  surely  understand  that  the  above  is  not  to  be 
taken  as  a  presentation  of  the  very  arguments  by  which  Hegel 
was  led  to  the  doctrine  of  the  essentiality  of  relations.     What 
we  have  wished  to  show  is  that — apart  from  the  peculiar  forms 
of  the  critical  philosophy — the  doctrine  which  reduced  the  es- 
sential attributes  of  eternal  substances  to  the  mutual  determina- 
tions of  phenomena  was  a  characteristic  manifestation  of  the 
spirit  of  the  age.     We  have  already  described  Kant's  attitude 
upon  the  matter— how,  clinging  to  the  old  logic,  while  he  ushers 
in  the  new,  he  still  conceives  of  a  self-subsistent  substance  lying 
behind  the  phenomenal  substance,  though  there  remains  no  deter- 
mination with  which  he  can  identify  it.     In  Hegel's  system,  that 
dualism  has  been  left  behind.     It  is  now  recognized,  that  in  the 
concept  of  reciprocity  rationalism  has  found  its  refutation.     That 
the  thing-in-itself  is  unknowable  has  become  a  truism,  for  there 
is  nothing  in  it  to  know.     The  real  thing  is  wholly  determined  in 
all  its  qualities  by  its  relations  to  other  things.     More  truly 
than  Leibniz  had  conceived,  every  reality  is  a  mirror  of  the 
universe — not  by  reason  of  a  preestablished  harmony,  the  work 
of  a  transcendent  creator,  but  simply  because  that  is  what  its 
existence  means.     Essence  and  accident,  the  inner  and  the  outer 
have  coalesced.     The  actual  is  no  longer  to  be  sought  for  beside 
or  behind  the  phenomenon.     If  the  distinction  between  them  is 
not  to  be  abandoned,  it  must  be  radically  transformed. 


^i 


92 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


It 


Before  taking  up  the  new  doctrine  of  the  actual  (which  takes 
the  place  of  the  rationalistic  doctrine  of  substance),  it  will  be 
convenient  for  us  to  examine  some  of  the  more  immediate  con- 
sequences of  the  essentiality  of  relations. 

In  the  first  place,  the  representative  theory  of  knowledge  has 
lost  its  excuse  for  being.     The  Kantian  compromise,  which  had 
preserved  the  old  ideal  only  to  show  it  to  be  impossible  of  ful- 
fillment, is  already  only  of  historical  significance.     With  the 
independent  essence  has  vanished  the  independent  standard  of 
truth.     The  task  of  reason  is  not  simply  to  construct  a  thought- 
copy  of  a  reality  which  exists  prior  to  all  thought.     On  the  con- 
trary, there  is  no  aspect  of  reality  which  is  not  wholly  dependent 
upon   at   least   the   possibility  of  its  being  known.     The  new 
conception  of  truth,  which  Kant  had  introduced  as  an  imperfect 
substitute  for  the  ideal,  and  as  having  relevancy  only  within  a 
restricted  sphere  of  thought— the  conception  of  truth  as  service 
in    the    organization    of   experience — has    occupied    the    whole 
thought-universe.     While  the  relation  of  correspondence  between 
idea  and  object  is  not  denied,  it  is  not  regarded  as  an  ultimate 
and  inexplicable  datum. 

From  one  point  of  view  the  critical  doctrine  is  thus  carried  to 
its  extreme.  But  from  another  it  has  lost  much  of  its  apparent 
radicalism.  To  make  use  of  Kant's  famous  figure,— both  the 
popular  prejudice,  that  the  sun  revolves  about  the  earth,  and 
the  enlightened  doctrine,  that  the  earth  revolves  about  the  sun, 
have  given  way  to  the  theory,  that  both  alike  revolve  about  their 
common  center  of  gravity.  It  is  the  sober  conception  of  a  system 
that4ias  triumphed.  The  startling  thesis  of  the  critical  philos- 
ophy, that  the  constitutive  relations  of  things  do  not  belong  to 
the  things  themselves,  but  are  supplied  by  the  subject,  has  given 
way  to  the  synthetic  view,  that  these  relations  are  at  once  sub- 
jective and  objective— that,  belonging  to  the  organization  of 
experience,  they  appertain  to  both  subject  and  object  indis- 
solubly. 

In  the  second  place,  the  intuition  of  reason  has  become  un- 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


93 


necessary — or,  to  speak  more  guardedly,  an  important  ground 
for  its  necessity  has  been  removed.  For  the  function  of  the 
intuition  is  precisely  to  bridge  that  gap  between  idea  and  reality 
which  now  no  longer  exists.  Upon  this  point  we  need  not  dwell, 
for  the  connection  between  intuitionalism  and  the  representative 
theory  of  knowledge  has  been  treated  at  length  in  an  earlier 
chapter.  Here  we  would  merely  add  that  even  if,  upon  other 
grounds,  the  intuition  should  appear  to  be  indispensable  as  the 
foundation  of  science,  it  is  now  inadequate.  For  the  intuition 
owes  its  self-evidence  to  the  clearness  and  distinctness  of  its 
contents  altogether  independently  of  anything  else.  But  if  the 
essentiality  of  relations  is  to  be  regarded  as  established,  there 
can  be  no  such  independent  truth. 

Let  us  turn  now  to  more  positive  considerations. 
According  to  absolute  idealism,  the  actual  is  the  system  of 
phenomena.  Like  the  substance  of  the  rationalists,  it  is  a  self- 
subsistent  unity;  for  there  is  nothing  outside  of  it  to  which  it 
can  refer  or  upon  which  it  can  depend.  Its  existence  and  its 
meaning  are  alike  contained  within  itself.  For  any  particular 
phenomenon,  a  ground,  or  cause,  may  properly  be  sought;  and 
as  this  is  found  in  another  phenomenon,  the  inquiry  may  be 
repeated  without  limit.  But  for  the  complete  system  it  is  ridicu- 
lous to  seek  a  ground  or  a  cause.  It  stands,  to  be  sure,  in  relation 
to  its  phenomenal  elements,  and  may  be  thought  of  as  dependent 
upon  each  of  them;  but  in  depending  upon  them  it  is  simply 
depending  upon  itself. 

This  may  be  otherwise  expressed  by  saying  that  for  Hegel  the 
actual  is  a  concrete  universal,  as  distinguished  from  the  abstract 
universals  from  which  rationalists  had  sought  to  deduce  all  things. 
An  illustration  of  his  theory  is  to  be  found  in  any  natural  or 
social  organism.  If  one  inquires,  for  example,  the  meaning  of 
'American  citizen,'  an  answer  in  the  spirit  of  the  rationalists 
would  consist  in  a  definition  embracing  all  the  points  of  likeness 
in  which  all  American  citizens  agree;  while  an  answer  in  Hegel's 
spirit  would  comprise  an  account  of  the  national  life,  in  which 


m 


94 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


95 


various  classes  of  citizens— rich  and  poor,  educated  and  illiterate, 
men  of  various  parties  and  sympathies— play  distinctive  parts. 
That  is  to  say,  in  his  view  the  differences  between  American 
citizens  are  quite  as  essential  to  an  understanding  of  the  concep- 
tion as  are  their  likenesses.     To  know  the  American  citizen  is 
to  know  the  United  States  of  America.     Even  so,  to  express  the 
meaning  of  'tissues  of  the  human  body*  no  mere  definition  will 
suffice,  but  only  an  account  of  the  various  tissues  in  their  complex 
interrelations.     A  further  point  of  great  importance  must  be 
noted.     If  we  consider  a  series  of  abstract  universals,  related  as 
species  and  genera  of  increasing  extent,   the  thought-content 
steadily   diminishes;  whereas  in  the  case  of  concrete  universals 
the  wider  the  extent  the  richer  the  content.     So  that  the  limit  of 
explanation  is  not  to  be  found  in  a  set  of  simple  ideas,  or  siimma 
genera,  of  maximum  extent  and   minimum   content,  but  is  a 
summum  genus  which   contains,  as   well   as  subsumes,  ^11  its 
species,  and  whose  meaning  exhausts  all  possible  meaning. i 

It  is  true  that,  upon  reflection,  the  organism  shows  itself  to  be, 
after  all,  an  imperfect  illustration  of  actuality.  The  meaning  of 
its  component  elements  is  not  sufficiently  shown  by  their  mutual 
relations  alone.  There  is  an  environment  also  to  be  considered, 
and  upon  this  environment  every  part  of  the  organism  stands  in 
absolute  dependence.  Strictly  speaking,  there  can  be  but  a  single 
actuality. 

But  that  the  analogy  may  lead  us  as  far  as  possible,  it  must 
not  be  supposed  that  in  his  conception  of  the  organism  Hegel 
confines  his  view  to  a  single  stage  in  its  life-history .2  As  far  as 
the  reciprocal  dependence  extends,  so  far  the  concept  of  the 
organism  extends.     The  true  organism  embraces  the  entire  de- 

^A  resemblance  to  mysticism  lies  upon  the  surface,  but  its  importance  is  easily 
exaggerated. 

2As  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel,  however,  the  maturity  of  an  organism  is  not  to  be 
regarded  as  simply  one  stage  among  others  in  its  development.  It  is  that  m  wh'ch 
the  whole  development  is  contained— its  end,  and  at  the  same  time,  its  principle. 
And  the  eternity  of  the  actual,  of  which  we  immediately  speak,  does  not  mean 
simply  the  inclusion  of  temporal  change.  It  means  the  incorporation  (Aufhebung) 
of  all  stages  of  the  universal  evolution  in  its  consummation— God. 


law 

V'  td 


velopment.  This  is  (in  part  at  least)  the  significance  of  the 
dictum  of  absolute  idealism,  that  the  actual  changes  and  is  yet 
eternal.  The  infinite  organism  embraces  the  whole  past  and 
future — it  is  a  universal  evolution.  It  is  eternal,  not  as  if  change 
were  illusory,  but  because  all  change  is  comprehended  within  it. 

In  the  philosophy  of  Hegel  a  new  scientific  influence  has  be- 
come dominant — that  of  the  history  of  civilization.  This  in- 
fluence, which  prior  to  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  is  to 
be  discerned  only  by  careful  scrutiny,  has  by  the  beginning  ojf  I 
the  nineteenth  relegated  to  a  secondary  place  the  methods  and 
principles  of  mathematics.  In  this,  as  in  so  many  respects,  thi 
philosophy  of  Kant  is  a  turning-point.  It  is  there  that  one  find^ 
the  supreme  effort  of  rationalism  to  interpret  the  phenomena  of 
human  progress  in  terms  derived  from  the  study  of  mechanics- 
to  make  a  morality  that  simulates  the  uniformity  of  natural  la^ 
square  with  a  humanity  that  has  passed  up  from  savagery 
civilization  and  is  still  climbing.  In  absolute  idealism,  the  inter-, 
pretation  of  progress  operates  by  means  of  categories  to  which  it 
has  itself  given  rise,  and  by  which,  in  turn,  even  the  theories  of, 
quantity  and  number  are  dominated.  In  other  words,  absolute 
idealism  is  a  philosophy  of  evolution— the  philosophy  of  evolution 
par  excellence,  its  advocates  would  say. 

The  significance  of  the  revolution  thus  accomplished  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  overestimate.  It  is  not  simply  a  shifting  of  interest 
from  one  science  to  another.  It  marks  the  emergence  of  a  higher 
ideal  of  human  wisdom.  The  oldest  division  of  the  accumulated 
learning  of  man,  the  division  upon  which  all  further  specialization 
has  rested,  is  that  between  history  and  philosophy;  and  this 
division  has  persisted,  without  any  effectual  attempt  to  overcome 
it — unless  the  work  of  Aristotle  be  an  exception — down  almost 
to  our  own  day.  It  is  the  cleft  between  the  individual  and  the 
universal,  between  the  curiosity  that  would  fain  know  the  for- 
tunes of  men  and  things  in  all  the  fulness  of  their  concrete  particu- 
larity, and  the  curiosity  which  is  not  to  be  satisfied  by  mere 


94 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


95 


various  classes  of  citizens— rich  and  poor,  educated  and  illiterate, 
men  of  various  parties  and  sympathies— play  distinctive  parts. 
That  is  to  say,  in  his  view  the  differences  between  American 
citizens  are  quite  as  essential  to  an  understanding  of  the  concep- 
tion as  are  their  likenesses.     To  know  the  American  citizen  is 
to  know  the  United  States  of  America.     Even  so,  to  express  the 
meaning  of  'tissues  of  the  human  body'  no  mere  definition  will 
suffice,  but  only  an  account  of  the  various  tissues  in  their  complex 
interrelations.     A  further  point  of  great  importance  must  be 
noted.     If  we  consider  a  series  of  abstract  universals,  related  as 
species  and  genera  of  increasing  extent,  the  thought-content 
steadily   diminishes;  whereas  in  the  case  of  concrete  universals 
the  wider  the  extent  the  richer  the  content.     So  that  the  limit  of 
explanation  is  not  to  be  found  in  a  set  of  simple  ideas,  or  summa 
genera,  of  maximum  extent  and   minimum   content,  but  is  a 
summum  genus  which   contains,  as   well   as  subsumes,  ^11   its 
species,  and  whose  meaning  exhausts  all  possible  meaning.^ 

It  is  true  that,  upon  reflection,  the  organism  shows  itself  to  be, 
after  all,  an  imperfect  illustration  of  actuality.  The  meaning  of 
its  component  elements  is  not  sufficiently  shown  by  their  mutual 
relations  alone.  There  is  an  environment  also  to  be  considered, 
and  upon  this  environment  every  part  of  the  organism  stands  in 
absolute  dependence.  Strictly  speaking,  there  can  be  but  a  single 
actuality. 

But  that  the  analogy  may  lead  us  as  far  as  possible,  it  must 
not  be  supposed  that  in  his  conception  of  the  organism  Hegel 
confines  his  view  to  a  single  stage  in  its  life-history .2  As  far  as 
the  reciprocal  dependence  extends,  so  far  the  concept  of  the 
organism  extends.     The  true  organism  embraces  the  entire  de- 

»A  resemblance  to  mysticism  lies  upon  the  surface,  but  its  importance  is  easily 
exaggerated. 

2As  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel,  however,  the  maturity  of  an  organism  is  not  to  be 
regarded  as  simply  one  stage  among  others  in  its  development.  It  is  that  'n  wh-ch 
the  whole  development  is  contained— its  end.  and  at  the  same  time,  its  principle. 
And  the  eternity  of  the  actual,  of  which  we  immediately  speak,  does  not  mean 
simply  the  inclusion  of  temporal  change.  It  means  the  incorporation  (Aufhebung) 
of  all  stages  of  the  universal  evolution  in  its  consummation— God. 


velopment.  This  is  (in  part  at  least)  the  significance  of  the 
dictum  of  absolute  idealism,  that  the  actual  changes  and  is  yet 
eternal.  The  infinite  organism  embraces  the  whole  past  and 
future — it  is  a  universal  evolution.  It  is  eternal,  not  as  if  change 
were  illusory,  but  because  all  change  is  comprehended  within  it. 

In  the  philosophy  of  Hegel  a  new  scientific  influence  has  be- 
come dominant — that  of  the  history  of  civilization.  This  in- 
fluence, which  prior  to  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  is  to 
be  discerned  only  by  careful  scrutiny,  has  by  the  beginning  of 
the  nineteenth  relegated  to  a  secondary  place  the  methods  and  \ 
principles  of  mathematics.  In  this,  as  in  so  many  respects,  th^ 
philosophy  of  Kant  is  a  turning-point.  It  is  there  that  one  findi 
the  supreme  effort  of  rationalism  to  interpret  the  phenomena  of 
human  progress  in  terms  derived  from  the  study  of  mechanics— 
to  make  a  morality  that  simulates  the  uniformity  of  natural  la\^  j 
square  with  a  humanity  that  has  passed  up  from  savagery  to  \ 
civilization  and  is  still  climbing.  In  absolute  idealism,  the  inters 
pretation  of  progress  operates  by  means  of  categories  to  which  it 
has  itself  given  rise,  and  by  which,  in  turn,  even  the  theories  of 
quantity  and  number  are  dominated.  In  other  words,  absolute! 
idealism  is  a  philosophy  of  evolution— the  philosophy  of  evolution 
par  excellence  J  its  advocates  would  say. 

The  significance  of  the  revolution  thus  accomplished  it  is  difli- 
cult  to  overestimate.  It  is  not  simply  a  shifting  of  interest 
from  one  science  to  another.  It  marks  the  emergence  of  a  higher 
ideal  of  human  wisdom.  The  oldest  division  of  the  accumulated 
learning  of  man,  the  division  upon  which  all  further  specialization 
has  rested,  is  that  between  history  and  philosophy;  and  this 
division  has  persisted,  without  any  effectual  attempt  to  overcome 
it — unless  the  work  of  Aristotle  be  an  exception — down  almost 
to  our  own  day.  It  is  the  cleft  between  the  individual  and  the 
universal,  between  the  curiosity  that  would  fain  know  the  for- 
tunes of  men  and  things  in  all  the  fulness  of  their  concrete  particu- 
larity, and  the  curiosity  which  is  not  to  be  satisfied  by  mere 


i 


*} 


^IP 


96 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


stories,  but  only  by  explanations  upon  general  principles.     The 
division  is,  no  doubt,  a  preeminently  useful  one— as   its  long 
persistence  would  suffice  to  prove— and  Heraclitus,  who  was,  so 
far  as  we  know,  the  first  to  perceive  it,  was  not  without  warrant 
in  supposing  that  this  discovery  had  made  him  the  wisest  of  men. 
We  may  well  say  that  self-conscious  philosophy  begins  with  the 
insight,  that  "wisdom  is  apart  from  the  knowledge  of  many 
things"— that  "it  is  to  know  the  thought  by  which  all  things 
through  all  are  guided."     But,  however  advantageous  such  a 
division  may  be,  it  inevitably  gives  rise  to  limitations,  which 
sooner  or  later  become  serious ;  and  a  synthesis  which  successfully 
overcomes  these  limitations  means  not  simply  the  origin  of  a 
new  department  of  science  or  history,  but  a  reformation  of  both 
science  and  history,  by  which  few  departments  of  either  can  fail 
to  be  profoundly  affected.     This  is  the  great  accomplishment  of 
the  century  from  Turgot  to  Darwin— the  synthesis  of  history 
and  science  in  the  conception  of  evolution.     A  score  of  such  new 
births  as  geology  and  philology,  economic  history  and  the  history 
of  philosophy  itself  are  not  wholly  surprising  under  the  circum- 
stances. 

It  is,  then,  as  a  representative  of  this  movement  that  Hegel 
claims  our  attention,  and  this  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  his  work 
precedes  that  of  Darwin  by  half  a  century.  His  acquaintance 
with  the  facts  upon  which  a  general  theory  of  evolution  might 
be  founded  was  almost  entirely  limited  to  social  phenomena. 
The  development  of  the  individual  organism  had  been  so  im- 
perfectly studied,  that  a  grave  dispute  still  waged  between  the 
advocates  of  preformationism  and  those  who  saw  in  the  process 
a  true  epigenesis,  a  gradual  change  from  the  simple  to  the  com- 
plex. The  evolution  of  organic  species  was  generally  set  down 
as  a  discredited  hypothesis.  But  for  the  understanding  of  social 
progress  Hegel  had  behind  him  the  work  of  Turgot  and  Condor- 
cet,  of  Lessing,  Herder,  and  Kant.  The  broad  facts  to  be  ex- 
plained were  already  familiar,  though  only  the  beginnings  of  a 
dynamic  theory  had  yet  been  made. 


•\ 


vy 


A^ 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


97 


The  feature  of  social  evolution  which  stood  out  to  Hegel's 
view  was  the  manner  in  which  the  older  and  simpler  forms  of 
organization  persist  as  essential  elements  in  the  higher  forms. 
The  family  in  civil  society,  the  folk-song  in  the  symphony,  the 
fear  of  God  in  the  Christian  religion — these  may  serve  as  examples 
of  the  type  of  phenomenon  which  he  found  of  the  utmost  signifi- 
cance. Perhaps  for  us  the  best  illustration  of  this  significance 
is  to  be  found  in  a  parallel  observation  of  biologists, — the  per- 
sistence of  the  protozoic  type  in  the  structure  of  the  reproductive 
and  somatic  cells  of  the  highest  animals.  It  is  with  a  species 
of  awe  that  one  learns,  for  example,  that  the  cells  of  the  human 
body  are  still  living  substantially  the  marine  life  of  their  remotest 
ancestors.  The  sense  of  physical  solidarity,  the  realization  of 
the  fact  that  evolution  means  the  persistence  of  the  old  in  the 
very  substance  of  the  new,  is  tremendous.  It  was  this,  we  repeat, 
that  Hegel  observed  in  human  society, — the  preservation  of  prim- 
itive man  in  the  structure  of  modern  civilization.  He  gave  the 
process  the  name  of  Aufhebung,  a  term  for  which  a  proper  etymo- 
logical equivalent  in  our  language  has  been  sought  in  vain,  but 
which  may  be  well  enough  rendered  by  incorporation.  Two  as- 
pects of  the  process  were  pointed  out  by  him;  first,  the  loss  of 
independent  self -subsistence  by  the  lower  form;  and,  second,  its 
persistence  as  a  mere  element,  but  an  essential  element,  in  the 
structure  of  the  higher  form. 

But  Hegel  had  not  only  observed  this  process.  He  had  his 
theory  as  to  the  manner  in  which  it  is  accomplished.  If  we  ex- 
amine carefully— he  would  say— any  of  the  lower  forms  which 
have  been  mentioned,  we  perceive  that  it  contains  within  itself 
the  sources  of  its  own  inevitable  dissolution ;  it  involves  its  own 
contradiction.  Thus  in  the  family  parents  and  children  are  held 
together  by  the  dependence  of  the  latter  upon  the  former;  but 
through  parental  care  the  children  are  brought  to  a  maturity  in 
which  that  dependence  no  longer  ei^sts,  and  the  family  falls 
apart  into  a  number  of  individuals  having  separate  and  distinct 
interests.  If  even  between  these  individuals  a  natural  affection 
8 


i\ 


/ 


98 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


continues  to  exist,  the  renewed  course  of  family  life  itself,  with 
the  consequent  numerical  increase  of  the  group,  must  bring  about 
in  time  the  practical  dissolution  of  that  tie.     Thus  a  competitive 
system  is  originated,  which  is  the  complete  antithesis  of  all  that 
the  family  is  and  represents.     But  unrestrained  competition  has 
in  it,  in  precisely  similar  fashion,  the  seeds  of  its  own  undoing. 
That  competition  may  be  effectual,  the  possession  of  goods  must 
be  assured ;  and  such  an  assurance  can  only  be  given  by  a  new 
family  unity— not  the  primitive  family  based  upon  human  in- 
stinct, to  be  sure,  but  the  self-conscious  family  which  we  call 
the  state.     The  state,  then,  is  the  outcome  of  a  two-fold  process 
of  self-negation.     The  family  has  given  rise  to  its  opposite,  and 
this  opposite  has  in  turn  given  rise  to  its  opposite;  which,  how- 
ever, is  not  now  the  primitive  form  from  which  the  development 
set  out,  but  a  higher  unity  in  which  both  of  the  earlier  stages  are 
contained  as  essential  elements.     To  be  sure,  neither  the  family 
nor  the  competitive  order  is  quite  what  it  was  before  the  origin 
of  civil  society.     But  that  is  simply  to  say  that  each  has  lost  the 
appearance  of  self-subsistent  completeness  which  it  formerly  pos- 
sessed.    It  has  become  a  civil   institution,  aufgehoben,  incor- 
porated, in  the  larger  life  of  the  state.     The  complex  process 
thus  exemplified  is  called  dialectic. 

In  the  dialectical  movement  there  is  one  feature  to  which 
especial  attention  must  be  called.     This  is  the  fact,  that  it  is 
the  very  nature  of  the  lower  forms  to  develop  in  the  manner 
described.     The  development  is  not  something  which  occurs  to 
them  by  reason  of  accidental  surrounding  conditions.     It  is  im- 
plicitly contained  in  them;  and  as  it  proceeds  it  exhibits  what 
their  real  nature  was  better  than  they  did  themselves.     It  alone 
reveals  their  truth,  as  distinguished  from  what  they  seemed  to  be. 
In  a  different  sense,  the  whole  development  is  contained  in  the 
higher  form  which  is  its  outcome.     Indeed,  when  it  is  reflected 
that  the  development  is  not  a  mere  temporal  succession  of  events, 
but  a  logical  sequence  of  essentially  interrelated  factors,  it  may 
be  said  that  the  higher  form  is  the  development;  for  in  it  the 
same  opposition  and  synthesis  are  evermore  preserved. 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


99 


It  was  in  the  domain  of  philosophical  thought,  that  Hegel 
found  the  richest  exemplification  of  his  theory.  The  creation  of 
a  philosophy  was,  in  his  view,  as  impossible  as  the  creation  of  a 
political  constitution — and  this  for  reasons  which  have  already 
been  set  forth.  The  advancement  of  knowledge  could  not  consist 
in  the  mere  addition  of  new  to  old.  For — by  reason  of  the  essen- 
tiality of  relations — the  mastery  of  concepts,  the  insight  into 
things,  is  inevitably  interpenetrating.  A  complete  knowledge  of 
any  object,  a  complete  comprehension  of  any  concept,  would 
amount  to  omniscience — no  possible  addition  would  remain. 
What  happens,  therefore,  is  that  our  abstract  and  palpably  in-' 
adequate  notions  of  things  gradually  gain  in  concreteness.  The 
old  truth  becomes  the  new,  when  hitherto  unperceived  conditions 
and  limitations  of  its  applicability  are  revealed.  It  must  then 
be  regarded  as  refuted,  so  far  as  its  former  pretensions  to  absolute 
universality  are  concerned ;  but  this  refutation  means  that  it  has 
found  its  due  place  in  a  larger  scheme  of  truth. 

It  is  this  conception  which  enabled  Hegel  to  organize  a  new 
department  of  human  knowledge — one  which  Bacon  two  hundred 
years  before  had  described  as  wanting,  but  the  lack  of  which 
had  not  yet  been  supplied — the  history  of  philosophy.  We  have 
already  remarked  that  to  the  thinkers  of  the  dogmatic  period 
the  striking  feature  in  the  succession  of  world-theories  is  the  in- 
consistency of  each  one  with  every  other.  It  is  a  lamentable 
series  of  failures,  to  which  the  ultimate  touch  of  pathos  is  given 
by  the  curious  vanity  with  which  each  man  hopes  to  finally 
triumph  where  all  his  predecessors  have  met  defeat.  Hegel  sees 
matters  in  a  different  light.  To  him  the  refutation  of  a  system 
means  simply  that  the  peculiar  limitations  of  its  principles  are 
perceived,  and  that  they  are  accordingly  included  in  and  sub- 
ordinated to  principles  that  are  at  once  more  comprehensive  and 
more  concrete.  The  catalogue  of  the  philosophers  and  schools 
of  the  past  is  in  truth  the  index  of  an  inspiring  record  of  progress; 
and  the  relation  of  the  latest  thinker  to  those  who  have  preceded 
him  should  be  one  of  gratitude  and  reverence.     While  he  may 


i 


r 


If. 

51 


M 


lOO 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


ml      > 


N 


be  vain  enough  to  hope  that  by  bringing  together  the  results  of 
their  labors  he  may  produce  a  system  that  shall  surpass  them 
all,  he  ought  not  to  be  unwilling  to  reflect  that  his  own  best 
thoughts  will  be  reduced  to  a  place  of  subordination  in  the  grander 
system  of  the  future.  . 

Needless  to  say,  the  process  is  here,  as  elsewhere,  dialectical. 
Indeed,  it  is  from  this  field  that  the  concept  of  dialectic  is  ob- 
viously derived.     No  philosophy  is  refuted  until  it  refutes  itself; 
and  its  self-refutation  means  that  it  passes  over  into  its  negative. 
V     Thus  it  is  the  palpable  failure  of  rationalism  to  explain  the  indi- 
viduality of  things  upon  universal  grounds,  that  makes  empiri- 
cism inevitable.     But  the  negative  is  equally  insecure ;  as  the  fail- 
ure of  empiricism  to  frame  an  adequate  account  of  the  universal 
aspects  of  things  illustrates.     Hence  the  second  negative  arises, 
which  is  the  synthesis  of  the  two  opposites.     Philosophy  returns 
^         to  the  universal  as  its  principle;  but  this  is  not  now  the  empty 
universal  of  rationalism,  but  the  generic  type  which  contains 
the  grounds  of  its  own  differentiation.     Absolute  idealism  is  thus 
the  truth  of  both  rationalism  and  empiricism,  their  logical  out- 
come which  first  makes  clear  what  each  really  contained.     And 
as  it  maintains  both  within  itself  as  essential  factors  of  its  own 
higher  complexity,  the  dialectic  by  which  it  has  arisen  still  con- 
tinues evermore  within  it — it  is  that  dialectic. 

What  is  thus  true  of  philosophical  systems  is  equally  true  of 

those  fundamental  concepts  in  terms  of  which  the  interpretation 

of  the  universe  is  carried  on;  for  the  history  of  philosophy  is 

essentially  conditioned  by  the  development  of  these  concepts. 

Philosophy  comes  into  existence  with  the  explicit  emergence  of 

pure  thought,  in  the  Eleatic  school;  and  it  is  naturally  then  in 

the  poorest  of  its  categories,  that  is  to  say,  at  the  lowest  of  its 

possible  stages:  mere  being.     The  great  advance  made  by  Hera- 

^       clitus  (whom  Hegel  apparently  supposes  to  be  later  than  Par- 

*     menides)  is  due  to  the  fact,  that  he  has  made  out  the  dialectical 

unity  of  being  and  its  negation,  in  the  relatively  complex  category 

of  becoming.     Here  also  the  lower  forms  continue  as  permanent 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


lOl 


elements  of  the  higher;  and  here  also  the  higher  form  is  nothing 
more  than  their  reconciliation.  Each  of  the  two  elements  suffers 
a  certain  modification;  but  that  again  means  only  that  it  has 
lost  its  original  deceptive  appearance  of  isolated  self-sufficiency. 
The  higher  category  shows  better  than  the  lower  what  the  lower 
really  was.     It  is  its  'truth,'  that  is  to  say,  its  logical  outcome. 

Hegel  repeatedly  remarks  upon  the  altered  conception  of 
immediacy  which  this  evolutionary  doctrine  brings  to  the  fore. 
The  dialectic  sets  out  from  an  immediate  in  the  rationalistic 
sense — an  absolutely  simple  and  unrelated  thought,  which  for  that 
very  reason  is  empty  of  all  content  and  cannot  even  be  distin- 
guished from  its  own  negative.  Hegel  is  insistent  upon  the  point, 
that  no  such  thought  can  be  more  than  this.  But  every  new 
synthesis  is  immediate  in  a  different  sense.  It  is  self- mediated . 
For  though  the  preceding  evolution  is  necessary  in  order  to  pro- 
duce it,  that  evolution  is  itself. 

The  same  is  true  of  the  logical  dialectic  taken  in  its  entirety. 
Every  category  is  the  whole  development  up  to  itself.  And  the 
supreme  category  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  the  complete 
dialectic. 

For  this  reason  the  mere  temporal  development  of  the  cate- 
gories, as  the  history  of  philosophy  records  it,  is,  after  all,  a 
matter  of  secondary  concern.  The  really  significant  thing  is 
the  dialectic  as  it  exists  in  the  higher  category.  For  though  the 
historical  process,  in  so  far  as  it  occurs  at  all,  occurs  in  precisely 
the  one  possible  manner,  nevertheless  it  is  constantly  obscured 
and  interrupted.  Historical  change  is  not  always  progress. 
Moreover  the  very  temporal  sequence  of  the  stages  gives  them 
an  appearance  of  mutual  externality,  which  is  the  reverse  of  truth. 
Not  that  the  historical  course  of  events  is  without  its  suggestive- 
ness.  But  it  is  logical  insight — the  perception  of  the  eternal 
synthesis  of  opposites — that  alone  can  be  receptive  to  the  sug- 
gestions of  history.  Thus,  in  principle,  logic,  the  science  of  the 
eternal  dialectic,  is  the  presupposition  of  the  intelligent  study 
of  the  historical  dialectic.     It  belongs,  indeed,  to  the  historian  of 


I 

i 

i 


!i 


I 


ii 


102 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


J03 


philosophy— as  Hegel  is  reported  to  have  said^— to  show  in  detail 
''how  far  the  gradual  evolution  of  his  theme  coincides  with,  or 
swerves  from,  the  dialectical  unfolding  of  the  pure  logical  idJa/' 
There  is  another  general  feature  of  Hegel's  logic,  which  we 
must  not  neglect  to  emphasize.     In  his  view,  it  is  the  lower  cate- 
gory itself,  which,  by  reason  of  its  own  inherent  character,  de- 
velops into  the  higher.     No  outside  influence  plays  any  part  in 
the  process.     It  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  think  about  being,  to 
compare  it  or  contrast  it  with  any  other  category,  or  even  to  use 
it  in  any  concrete  connection,  in  order  to  produce  the  dialectic 
All  that  is  mere  '^external  reflection."     Above  all,  no  induction 
is  necessary.     It  is  not  as  if  the  category  were  an  hypothesis 
accepted  provisionally  and  gradually  corrected  as  its  application 
to  new  instances  requires.     On  the  contrary,  it  is  accepted  with- 
out reservation— it  fills  the  mind's  whole  horizon— and  then, 
without  extraneous  interference  of  any  sort,  it  corrects  itself. 
It  is  only  necessary  that  being  be  thought— that  is  to  say,  that  the 
thought  named  'being'  continue— and  it  transforms  itself  into 
naught  and  into  becoming.     The  dialectic  is  an  expression  of  the 
thought's  own  essential  spontaneity. 

It  will  be  readily  seen  from  the  above,  how  vital  to  Hegel's 
system  the  assumption  of  pure  thought  as  a  particular  species 
of  conscious  activity  is.  He  is  unable  to  speak  without  contempt 
of  those  who  pretend  to  philosophize  and  yet  deny  the  existence 
of  such  thought.  The  denial  is  to  him  a  mere  confession  that 
the  one  who  makes  it  is  so  far  undeveloped  as  to  be  incapable  of 
the  study  of  logic,  and  so  of  any  philosophical  speculation  worthy 
of  the  name.  Not  that  this  is  his  only  answer.  In  his  Phenome- 
nology of  Spirit  he  attempts  to  show  that  pure  thought  (as  well  as 
concrete  thought,  of  which  later)  is  a  necessary  development 
from  the  very  lowest  sensuous  consciousness.  From  this  position 
he  does  not  swerve,  and  his  whole  system  of  philosophy  is  con- 
ditioned by  it. 

» In  an  editorial  addition  to  Encyclopedia,  Logic,  §  86;  Wallace  tr. 


The  purity  of  thought  does  not,  of  course,  mean  that  it  stands 
in  no  organic  connection  with  the  lower  forms  of  consciousness. 
It  has  grown  out  of  them.  Experience — the  data  of  mere  per- 
ception and  the  quasi-universals  formed  by  induction — is  and 
remains  its  points  of  departure.  Cut  off  from  this  origin,  it  would 
be  a  dead  formalism.  Its  purity,  then,  means  its  negativity — 
in  the  sense  which  we  have  previously  described.  Having 
emerged  from  experience,  the  explicit  fact  about  it  is  that  it  is 
not  experience.  It  is  not,  like  experience,  subject  to  correction 
by  yet  unknown  exceptions ;  for  its  truth  is  dependent  upon  noth- 
ing outside  of  itself.  That  is  to  say,  it  has  no  object  with  which 
it  must  square — or,  if  you  please,  its  only  object  is  itself — and 
its  development  consists  solely  in  its  better  and  better  squaring 
with  itself.  Thus  it  exhibits  an  absolute  universality  and  neces- 
sity, such  as  experience  indefinitely  strives  towards,  while  ever 
remaining  at  an  infinite  distance  from  it. 

Pure  thought  also  differs  from  experience  in  its  transcendence 
of  the  individual  limitations  of  the  thinker.  Each  man's  expe- 
rience is  more  or  less  peculiar  to  himself;  and  inductive  science 
can  only  approximately  cast  out  the  errors  thus  arising.  But 
pure  thought  is  not  one  man's  thought  to  the  exclusion  of  others'. 
How  could  it  be,  seeing  that  it  has  no  object  beyond  itself?  The 
varying  experiences  of  different  men  have  a  meeting-point  in 
the  common  object  to  which  they  refer.  But  pure  thought  is 
its  own  object;  so  that  the  universality  which  it  possesses  means 
that,  while  it  emerges  from  the  individual  experiences  of  men,  it  is 
unitary.  Not  that  it  is  a  bare  identity  either  (as  if  one  man's 
thought  were  ipso  facto  another's)  or  an  abstract  universality 
(as  if  one  man's  thought  were  simply  like  another's).  It  is  a 
concrete  universal,  of  which  their  several  thoughts  are  partial, 
though  essential,  aspects.  The  logic  has  an  existence  and  char- 
acter of  its  own,  independent  of  the  circumstance  that  you  may 
resolve  to  study  it;  though,  again,  it  is  only  in  the  conscious 
life  of  you  and  of  other  men  that  it  has  any  existence.  (So  the 
state  lives  before  the  citizen  is  born;  but  there  can  be  no  state 


11 

1" 


I04 


DOGMATISM  AND   EVOLUTION 


Without  citizens.     So,  too.  God  himself  exists  only  as  he  is  self- 
conscious  in  man.)     When  you  think  measure,  or  cause,  or  end, 
^  IS  not  you,  as  you,  that  think  it.    The  logic  is  not  a  develop- 
ment within  your  particular  self,  or  even  an  inheritance  passed 
on  from  man  to  man  and  increased  by  successive  exertions.     "For 
these  thousands  of  years  the  same  Architect  has  directed  the 
work;  and  that  Architect  is  the  one  living  Mind,  whose  thinking 
nature  It  is  to  bring  to  self-consciousness  what  it  is.  and.  with  it! 
be  ng  [,.  e.,  its  present  stage  of  development]  set  as  an  object 
before  it,  to  be  at  the  same  time  raised  above  it.  and  so  to  reach 
a  higher  state  of  its  own  being.  "> 

!  Now  in  relation  to  experience  pure  thought  is  altogether  a  priori 
-as  Its  character  of  universality  and  necessity  sufficiently  indi- 
cates. It  needs  no  experiential  evidence  to  support  it;  and  all 
experience  must  conform  to  it.     But  the  relation  of  pure  thought 

f7  h  H  T  ''  ''^'"^-  '""'■  '^°"*^^^*^  ^^"^'^t  '^  the  result  of  a 
further  development.  As  a  matter  of  human  history  this  devel- 
opment consists  in  an  appropriation  of  the  most  general  results 
of  the  empirical  sciences,  and  the  casting  of  them  into  a  form  in 
which  they  possess  the  self-sufficient  necessity  of  pure  thought 
that  IS  to  say.  we  repeat,  an  absolute  independence  of 

7r:lT\"  "'  "''  '"'"''"'  '"'^"*^"     ^-  this  achievement 
the  inductive  sciences  themselves  were,  to  be  sure,  a  necessary 

feTuTt"     Th"' ,  '  '''"  "°'  ^^"P™""'^^  *^^  -^tainty  of  the 

s7ae  of  I  A  T  '"'  "  '  P--"dition-but  only  as  a  lower 
stage  of  a  development  comes  before  a  higher;  which,  let  it  be 
remembered,  means  that  the  logic  first  shows  what  it  truly  is 

Tn' ts  IZrT  r  "  '•'""'  '■"  ^°"^"^^  *''°"«'^^-  S-"-  then! 
n  It   truth  the  advance  is  a  typical  dialectic,  due,  as  always,  to 

tne  tact  that  the  given  stage  contains  more  implicitly  than  it 

^Encycl    §  ,3.  Wallace's  translation,  slightly  altered, 
ine  relation  here  is  like  fhaf  r.f  fi,«  « 
By  reason  of  the  finitude  of  hu-n  ''""""'^"'  '°  '"e  rationalistic  deduction. 

point  the  way.     Bu    elrimraT/^^^^^^  ')"  "'""'"''"  "  "^^^^^^^  '"  -<^"  '° 
science  ^^P^nmental  evidence  forms  no  part  of  the  structure  of  the 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


lOS 


t 


exhibits  explicitly.     So  conceived,  it  shows  two  stages,  the  philos- 
ophy of  nature  and  the  philosophy  of  spirit.     These  two  stages, 
with  the  logic,  are  a  reflective  recapitulation  of  the  dialectic  of 
actuality  itself.     For  nature  is  nothing  else  than  the  negation  of 
thought— thought  objectified, 'petrified'  (in  Schelling's  phrase), 
representing  in  an  external  way  the  same  dialectic  which  the 
logic  sets  forth.     The  many  permanent  natural  forms  are  ar- 
rested developments  corresponding  to  the  various  stages  of  the 
evolution  of  the  pure  'idea.'     (This  is  why,  for  example,  the 
categories  of  the  old  rationalism  were  fairly  competent  in  the 
realm  of  mere  mechanics,  but  failed  altogether  when  applied 
to  the  explanation  of  the  simplest  organism.)     Spirit  is  the  return 
of  nature  to  thought  again  in  man:  first  as  a  thinking  subject; 
then  in  the  thought-suffused  institutions  of  human  society;  and 
finally  in  the  forms,  at  once  subjective  and  objective,  of  art, 
religion,  and  philosophy.     Philosophy,  as  the  outcome  of  the 
entire  threefold  dialectic,  is  the  supremely  actual.     In  other 
words,  God  is  in  very  truth  the  spirit  of  philosophy. 

Upon  its  face,  absolute  idealism  is  the  reverse  of  rationalism. 
Its  procedure,  instead  of  being  a  descent  from  first  'premises 
which  are  severally  clear  and  distinct  and  absolutely  true,  and 
impart  their  truth  to  all  that  follows  from  them,  is  an  ascent 
from  thoughts  which,  as  they  stand,  are  unclear  and  inadequate; 
and  its  fundamental  principle  is  its  goal.  It  would  be  difficult 
to  imagine  an  opposition  more  extreme.  Accordingly,  the  popu- 
lar usage  which  has  grouped  absolute  idealism  with  philosophies 
of  the  Cartesian  type  under  the  one  name  of  rationalism  may  well 
seem  inexcusable.  It  is  our  conviction,  nevertheless,  that  in 
various  important  respects  the  popular  classification  is  amply 
justified;  and  that  the  absolute  idealist,  despite  his  courageous 
struggle  for  spiritual  liberty,  has  not  succeeded  in  getting  himself 
free  from  the  meshes  of  the  old  dogmatism. 

What  has  usually  figured  as  the  main  ground  of  distinction 
between  the  Hegelian  philosophy  and  the  pre-Kantian  rationalism 


' 


io6 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


ill 


has,  however,  not  yet  been  mentioned.  This  is  the  so  called 
iaw  of  contradiction,*  which  Descartes  and  his  successors  ac- 
cepted as  self-evident,  and  which  Hegel  is  supposed  to  have  called 
in  question.  For  such  an  interpretation  of  his  position,  Hegel 
is  himself  largely  to  blame;  but  it  is  very  misleading  none  the 
less.  So  far  from  being  invalidated,  the  law  of  contradiction  is 
the  one  moving  principle  of  the  whole  dialectic,  not  only  in  pure 
thought,  but  in  the  natural  and  social  orders.  Not  only  have  we 
here  no  break  with  rationalism,  but  there  is  a  bond  of  union  which 
is  worthy  of  most  careful  examination. 

The  current  interpretation  has  arisen,  in  the  first  place,  natu- 
rally enough  from  Hegel's  deep-seated  contempt  for  the  school- 
logic  that  he  found  in  possession  of  the  field.  There  was  a 
precious  bit  of  truth  contained  in  it — the  classification  of  the 
syllogistic  moods,  for  example — but  that  might  all  be  expressed 
in  a  couple  of  pages.  The  rest  was  'pure  fudge,'  and  he  seldom 
lost  an  opportunity  for  pouring  his  contempt  upon  it.  Almost 
inevitably,  he  went  too  far.  The  particular  form  which  his  ex- 
cess took  was  given  by  his  weakness  for  reading  new  meanings 
into  old  formulae.  Generally,  indeed,  the  meanings  thus  im- 
ported were  deep  speculative  truths,  which  the  idioms  of  lan- 
guage and  the  dogmas  of  religion  unconsciously  contained — a 
mode  of  interpretation  which  Hegel's  evolutionary  theory  of  the 
relation  of  thought  to  the  lower  forms  of  consciousness  was  well 
adapted  to  support.  But  on  occasion  he  could  as  easily  read-in 
all  manner  of  untruth.  Thus  in  criticising  the  'law  of  identity* 
(A  is  A),  he  interprets  it  as  an  affirmation  of  the  externality 
of  relations;  and  the  iaw  of  the  excluded  middle'  (A  is  either 
B  or  not-B)  he  similarly  interprets  as  declaring  that  all  meaning 
consists  in  the  relation  of  contradiction.  Finally,  the  law  of 
contradiction  {A  is  not  not- A)  he  finds  to  mean  that  a  contra- 
diction is  unthinkable;  whereas  to  himself  the  truth  is  that  it  is 
not  permanently  thinkable,  for  when  a  thought  is  shown  to  contra- 
dict itself,  it  inevitably  undergoes  some  modification  which  re- 
solves the  contradiction.     Now  it  is  true,  that  Hegel  takes  issue 


ABSOLUTE  IDEALISM 


107 


with  rationalism  upon  the  question  of  the  existence  of  a  body  of 
absolutely  clear  and  distinct  thoughts,  given  by  intuition  and 
insusceptible  of  any  modification.  But  the  law  of  contradiction 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  possibility  of  unclear  thought  o^ 
with  the  question  whether  certain  categories  are  clear  or  unclear. 
Nor  is  it  involved  in  the  question,  whether  the  thinking  of  uncleaiL 
self-contradictory  thoughts  is  a  necessary  precondition  of  thfe 
thinking  of  self-consistent  and  adequate  thoughts.  But  that  self- 
contradiction  is  an  infallible  sign  of  unclearness  and  untruth 
both  Hegel  and  the  rationalists  agree.  1 

In  the  second  place-and  here  he  is  more  seriously  guilty- 
Hegel  systematically  confounds  opposition  of  any  sort,  either  in 
nature  or  in  society,  with  the  existence  of  a  logical  contradiction; 
just  as  he  also  identifies  the  mutual  cancellation  of  opposed  ele- 
ments  with  the  process  of  dialectic.     Contradiction,  he  accord- 
ingly declares,  has  a  universal  phenomenal  existence.    An  example 
may  serve  to  make  clear  his  view.     The  acid  and  the  base  are 
opposites.     Yet  each  is  directly  dependent  upon  the  other  for  its 
specific  characteristics.     If  there  were  not  acids,  a  base  would 
rot  be  a  base.     Either,  then,  by  itself  considered,  is  an  unreal 
abstraction,  and  it  is  only  in  their  combination  that  their  truth 
is  realized.     Their  existence  together  in  the  world  is  thus  an 
open  contradiction— /zence  their  tendency  to  react.    This,  of  course, 
is  puerile;  and  such  stuff  bulks  larger  in  Hegel's  work  than  one 
would  like  to  admit.     But  even  here,  let  it  be  noted,  the  contra- 
diction is  only  phenomenal,  not  actual.     It  exists  at  all  times,  but 
only  in  each  temporal  cross-section.     In  the  continuous  flow  of 
the  cosmic  process,  it  is  perfectly  resolved. 

In  the  third  place,  there  are  the  numerous  express  self-contra- 
dictions which  are  to  be  found  in  all  his  writings.  But  can  such 
outrages  upon  language  be  avoided  by  any  man  who  attempts  to 
work  out  an  evolutionary  philosophy?  The  proposition^  form, 
Hegel  insists,  is  incapable  of  expressing  speculative  truth,  that 
is  to  say,  of  expressing  the  relation  between  concepts  which  are 
in  process  of  development.     No  proposition  which  attempts  the 


1  S\ 


i« 


1 08 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


task  can  be  one  whit  truer  than  its  contradictory.  Thus  being 
and  naught,  somewhat  and  other,  positive  and  negative  are  the 
same  and  yet  not  the  same;  the  whole  is  prior  to  its  parts,  and 
yet  they  are  equally  prior  to  it;  there  must  be  a  mere  given 
somewhere  in  the  universe,  else  the  whole  system  of  necessary 
connections  has  nothing  to  hang  up  on — and  yet  any  phenomenon 
which  one  attempts  to  regard  as  such  a  mere  given  shows  itself 
at  once  to  be  a  link  in  the  chain  of  universal  necessitation.  It 
is  startling  to  common  sense  to  be  told  that  each  of  two  contra- 
dictory propositions  is  both  true  and  false;  but  it  is  merely  one 
of  the  growing-pains  of  thought.  When  categories  which  have 
heretofore  seemed  absolute  begin  to  show  their  limitations,  what 
else  is  to  be  expected?  The  law  of  contradiction  is  not  thereby 
abolished.  It  is  simply  pointed  out  that  the  application  of  this 
law  implies  a  certain  finality  in  the  terms  involved,  which  they 
do  not  always  possess. 

We  repeat  that  what  is  especially  remarkable  with  respect  to 
Hegel's  treatment  of  the  principle  of  contradiction  is  not  his  real 
or  alleged  assaults  upon  it,  but  the  tremendous  scope  which  he 
allows  it.  That  no  contradiction  can  be  actual,  and  so  eternal, 
is  with  him  not  simply  a  permanent  condition  but  a  motive  force 
— the  force  to  which  all  progress  is  due.  For  all  progress  is  but 
the  becoming  explicit  of  contradictions  that  are  everywhere  im- 
plicit, and  their  reconciliation;  and  this  process  takes  place  with- 
out the  necessity  of  outside  interference,  solely  by  reason  of  the 
existence  of  the  contradiction  itself.  Thus,  in  the  logic,  no  ex- 
ternal reflection,  no  induction  need  intervene ;  in  the  development 
of  the  state  no  pressure  of  the  natural  environment  plays  a  part. 
It  is  what  the  lower  form  has  in  it — its  organic  concept — that 
determines  what  it  is  to  be.  The  order  and  connection  of  thoughts 
and  the  order  and  connection  of  things  are  the  same. 
I  This  freedom  of  the  development  from  outside  interference 
has  its  characteristic  explanation,  which  we  must  not  neglect 
to  note.  The  logic  is  independent  of  experience  because  it  is 
its  outgrowth.     The  development  of  the  state  is  essentially  inde- 


i\ 


lii 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


109 


pendent  of  natural  conditions,  because  man  is  nature's  highest 
fruit — the  mere  stress  and  strain  of  material  forces  is  already 
aufgehoben  in  him.  But  what  we  would  now  particularly  observe 
is  that  these  incorporated  forces,  though  they  play  no  distinguishable 
part  in  advancing  the  development,  have  an  extraordinary  power  to 
thwart  it.  Even  philosophy  itself— the  absolute  spirit  in  its  su- 
preme self-realization — is  not  undisturbed  in  its  historical  growth 
by  the  accidents  of  fortune.  And  here  we  come  face  to  face  with 
rationalism  in  its  most  pronounced  form.  The  historical  order  is 
explained  in  terms  of  something  truer  than  itself.  It  is  broken  up 
into  two  parts,  an  essential  and  an  accidental,  and  only  the  former 
is  susceptible  of  rational  explanation  or  justification. 

There  thus  reappears,  despite  the  unifying  conception  of  Auf- 
hebung,  the  rationalistic  cleft  between  the  universal  and  the  par- 
ticular, the  necessary  and  the  contingent.  In  every  phenomenon 
of  nature  and  mind  there  is  an  aspect  which  must  be  set  down  to 
mere  chance — every  attempt  to  explain  it  will  surely  come  to 
grief.  We  must  beware  of  attempting  to  exhibit  the  necessity 
of  that  which  is  fundamentally  contingent.  True  philosophy  is 
far  from  pretending  to  be  competent  to  any  such  task.  For 
while  the  contingent  is  always  the  relatively  superficial,  and 
necessity  in  every  case  underlies  it,  that  does  not  mean  that  the 
former  is  a  mere  illusion  of  ignorance,  which  the  advancement  of 
knowledge  can  ultimately  dispel. 

If  we  ask  the  reason  for  this  surprising  turn  of  thought,  art 
answer  is  to  be  found  in  the  name  of  the  ancient  rationalist 
whom  Hegel  held  in  highest  reverence,  and  whose  fame  he  did 
much  to  reestablish :  Aristotle.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  we  think, 
that  Hegel's  conception  of  the  irrational  element  in  nature  come$ 
directly  from  this  source.  But  such  an  answer  seldom  contain^ 
so  much  as  half  a  truth.  The  question  remains,  why  Hegejl 
became  indebted  to  Aristotle  for  the  conception— what  the  nee ' 
of  his  own  thought  was,  that  urged  him  to  the  borrowing. 

Let  us  answer  this  question  with  another.  How  else  could 
Hegel  have  preserved  his  sanity?    As  it  stands,  the  program  of 


1 


1-^ 


no 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


III 


^'1 


k 


his  philosophy  is  the  most  magnificent  that  the  mind  of  man  ever 
conceived:  on  the  one  hand,  to  exhibit  in  a  complete  outline  the 
system  of  concepts  by  which  all  thought  is  organized ;  and  on 
the  other  hand  to  transform  the  chief  results  of  ancient  and  mod- 
ern  science  into  a  thought-universe,  wherein  all  should  be  in- 
terrelated  by  a  necessity  as  absolute  as  that  of  pure  thought  itself. 
If  the  dialectic  which  he  professed  had  included  the  full  par- 
ticularity of  experience,  it  would  have  amounted  to  an  oracle 
of  prophetic  omniscience. 

But  while  the  acceptance  of  the  existing  irrational  saves  ab- 
solute idealism  from  relapsing  into  a  mere  charlatanism,  this  is 
only  at  the  expense  of  admitting  an  irreconcilable  contradiction 
into  its  theory  of  actuality.     On  the  one  hand,  the  irrational 
aspect  of  the  phenomenon  is  condemned  as  mere  untruth ;  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  actual,  as  compared  with  this  untruth,  is 
itself  a  mere  negative,  equally  untrue.     If  history  fails  to  square 
with  thought,  so  much  the  worse  for  history— but  also  so  much 
the  worse  for  thought.     For  its  relation  to  the  merely  historical 
^  is  an  external  relation,  which  in  no  wise  affects  its  intrinsic  sig- 
nificance.    But  because  it  stands  in  an  external  relation,  the 
actual  is  not  the  actual,  but  a  mere  phenomenon. 

Thus  the  theory  of  the  essentiality  of  relations  refutes  itself 
in  very  much  the  same  fashion  as  the  dogmatic  theory  of  their 
externality— and  for  a  similar  reason.     Each  is  valid  as  a  descrip- 
tion, not  of  any  real  human  thought,  but  of  a  one-sidedly  idealized 
thought.     For  the  old  rationalism,  the  improvement  of  the  under- 
standing consisted  essentially  in  the  analysis  of  concepts ;  and  its 
ideal  was  definition  in  simple  terms.     For  the  new  rationalism, 
the  improvement  consists  essentially  in  the  enrichment  of  con- 
cepts ;  and  its  ideal  is  the  all-inclusive,  self-supporting  Idea.     Per- 
haps it  is  too  much  to  say  that  either  ideal  is  intrinsically  self- 
contradictory.     But  as  applied  to  the  explanation  of  human  ex- 
^  perience,  each  is  alike  absolutely  futile.     The  plain  fact  of  the 
matter  is  that  expanding  knowledge  means,  on  the  one  hand, 
.  the  transformation  of  external  relations  into  essential  relations,  andj 


on  the  other  hand,  the  establishment  of  new  external  relations. 
In  other  words,  it  means  the  solution  of  problems  in  terms  which 
themselves  raise  new  problems.  For  the  externality  of  a  relation 
signifies  simply  the  existing  limit  of  our  knowledge — every  rela- 
tion is  external  until  we  have  explained  it.  Whether  any  rela- 
tions are  absolutely  external — that  is,  whether  there  are  any 
absolute  limits  to  our  understanding,  any  problems  that  are  in- 
trinsically insoluble  and  hence  not  worth  the  setting — is  a  ques- 
tion which  we  need  not  discuss  here.  It  will  be  granted,  we 
think,  that  the  idealization  of  thought  by  a  sweeping-away  of  its 
limitations — the  conception  of  a  problem-solving  function,  which 
has  no  problems  left  to  solve — is  scarcely  adequate  as  a  model 
of  correct  thinking. 

The  'concrete  universal'  has  been  Hegel's  most  important  sug- 
gestion to  later  thinkers — one  whose  fruitfulness  has  not  yet 
been  exhausted.  But  the  theory  of  the  actual  as  a  concrete 
universal,  is,  when  taken  in  perfect  strictness,  as  nearly  as  possible 
unilluminating.  Its  whole  attractiveness  is  due  to  the  analogy 
of  finite  organisms.  In  the  case  of  the  finite  organism,  it  is 
possible  to  see  that  part  in  the  light  of  the  whole — but  only 
because  the  whole  is  itself  a  part  of  a  larger  whole. ^  For  the 
conception  of  an  organism  is  wholly  relative  to  the  conception  of 
an  environment.  This  is  the  simple  sun-clear  truth  that  Hegel 
never  saw.  It  is  only  with  reference  to  the  environment  that 
there  can  be  any  comprehensible  unity  of  the  whole  organism, 
to  which  the  functions  of  the  various  organs  are  subservient. 

^Shaftesbury's  quaint  observation  is  worth  remembering:  "When  we  reflect 
on  any  ordinary  frame  or  constitution  either  of  art  or  nature ;  and  consider  how  hard 
it  is  to  give  the  least  account  of  a  particular  part,  without  a  competent  knowledge 
of  the  whole:  we  need  not  wonder  to  find  ourselves  at  a  loss  in  many  things  relating 
to  the  constitution  and  frame  of  nature  herself.  For  to  what  end  in  nature  many 
things,  even  whole  species  of  creatures,  refer;  or  to  what  purpose  they  serve;  will 
be  hard  for  any  one  justly  to  determine:  but  to  what  end  the  many  proportions 
and  various  shapes  of  parts  in  many  creatures  actually  serve;  we  are  able  by  the 
help  of  study  and  observation,  to  demonstrate  with  great  exactness."  An  Inquiry 
concerning  Virtue,  I,  2,  i. 


112 


DOGMATISM  AND   EVOLUTION 


I 


IJ 


II 


That  IS  to  say,  it  is  impossible  to  advance  by  a  synthesis  of  any 
number  of  parts  or  aspects  to  the  idea  of  an  organic  whole.  It 
IS  true  that  the  idea  of  a  universal  organism  may  have  for  many 
mmds  a  certain  figurative  suggestiveness,  standing  for  the  fact, 
that  every  apparent  externality  of  relation  constitutes  a  problem' 
—that  a  'why'  may  always  be  asked.  But  the  "point  of  view  of 
the  whole"  remains  a  pure  abstraction.  It  adds  nothing  to  the 
law  of  gravitation  if  we  write:  "Actuality  is  such  that  every  mass 
attracts  every  other  mass,  etc." 

For  this  reason,  the  famous  Hegelian  dictum,  "Everything 
actual  is  reasonable,"  if  intended  as  a  criterion  of  reasonableness, 
IS  not  so  much  false  as  meaningless,  because  of  utterly  uncertain 
application.     The  actual  is  the  eternal  or,  at  least,  an  essential 
Stage  in  the  self-development  of  the  eternal.     But  who,  in  looking 
abroad  upon  human  society,  can  distinguish  between  what  is 
essential-for,  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  actual,  a  thousand 
years  are  as  a  day-and  what  is  superficial  and  evanescent? 
The  dictum  is  appropriate  only  to  one  who  pretends  to  extra- 
ordinar>'.  if  not  superhuman,  insight,  and  who  magisterially  an- 
nounces to  the  world  his  distinctions  of  true  and  false,  reasonable 
and  unreasonable.     Let  it  be  admitted,  that,  as  a  postulate  of 
moral  effort,  the  dictum  is  by  no  means  meaningless.     "Nothing 
that  is  unreasonable  is  actual,"  may  well  stand  as  the  formulation 
of  the  demand,  that  no  evil  be  accepted  as  necessary,  and  of  the 
faith,  that  in  the  battle  of  life  the  right  may  meet  with  defeat 
but  can  never  be  conquered. 

It  is  because  of  his  curiously  abstract  view  of  the  nature  of 
the  organism,  that  Hegel  represents  its  evolution  as  the  mere 
self-explication  of  a  concept— the  environment  counting  only  as 
a  possible  disturbing  element.  And  because  the  process  is  a 
self-contamed  one,  it  is  reasonably  described  as  'determined  by 
Its  end.'  Thus  the  development  of  the  chick  is  due  to  the  fact 
that  the  egg  is  implicitly  a  fowl;  the  fowl  involved  in  the  egg 
produces  itself.     The  same  line  of  thought  is  accountable  for  the 


ABSOLUTE   IDEALISM 


"3 


fact,  that  for  Hegel  dissolution  and  death  are  mere  signs  of  the  im- 
perfect correspondence  of  the  natural  organism  to  its  true  con- 
cept. According  to  his  thinking,  a  perfect  man  could  never  die— 
except  as  a  sheer  accident.  That  the  very  conception  of  the 
organism  should  include  a  complete  life-process,  that  death  should 
be  as  normal  as  birth,  he  could  not  contemplate. 


I 


|V\ 


i 


PART   III 
THE   PRAGMATIST  REVOLT 


f  1'  ! 


'M 


> 


\\ 


If 


'J 


CHAPTER  I 

THE   PRINCIPLES  OF   PRAGMATISM 

No  scientific  hypothesis  has  ever  exerted  a  more  profound  or 
far-reaching  influence  upon  the  thought  of  a  period,  than  has 
the  Darwinian  theory  of  evolution  upon  that  of  the  last  half- 
century.     Not  only  have  the  group  of  biological  sciences  been 
re-created,  but  there  is  scarcely  one  of  the  mental  and  social 
sciences,  that  has  not  been  in  large  degree  revolutionized.     It 
was,  indeed,  in  the  realm  of  social  science,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
that  the  idea  of  evolution  first  became  effective.     But  it  was  not 
until  the  work  of  Darwin  in  biology,  that  there  existed  anything 
like  a  scientific  theory  of  evolution,  based  on  wide  and  intensive 
empirical  study.     That  is  to  say,  the  process  of  evolution  had 
been  conceived  in  an  essentially  abstract  fashion,  without  any 
adequate  consideration  of  the  factors  which  operated  in  any  field 
or  of  the  manner  in  which  they  produced  their  effect. 

The  importance  of  Darwin's  work  did  not  lie  simply  in  the 
fact  that  it  provided  an  acceptable  theory  of  the  evolution  of 
organic  species.     In  the  first  place,  the  fact  that  he  was  able  to 
furnish  a  tolerably  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  evolutionary 
origin  of  species— which  up  to  his  time  had  seemed  inexplicable 
—this  very  fact  gave  weight  to  previously  existing  evidence  for 
such  evolution,  and  opened  the  way  for  a  universal  theory  of 
evolution.     In  the  second  place,  the  bridging  of  the  gap  between 
man  and  the  lower  orders  meant  a  transformation  of  those 
sciences  dealing  with  essentially  human  activities.     For  if  man 
had  developed  from  the  condition  of  a  brute,  then  it  must  be 
possible  to  trace  the  rise  and  growth  of  his  activities  from  instinc- 
tive animal  behavior.    A  tremendous  impetus  was  thus  given  to 
the  application  of  evolutionary  methods  to  the  entire  body  of 

mental  and  social  sciences. 

117 


ii8 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


1/ 


: 


And  yet  amid  this  wide-spread  upheaval  of  method  the  science 
of  logic  has,  until  within  the  last  two  decades,  remained  un- 
touched by  the  spread  of  the  Darwinian  theory.  There  have, 
to  be  sure,  been  researches  in  plenty  into  the  evolution  of  concepts 
in  the  individual  and  in  society.  And  the  proof  of  the  imperma- 
nence  of  natural  types  has  given  a  special  impetus  to  such  re- 
searches— largely  because  the  traditional  belief  in  the  fixity  of 
these  types  had  been  generally  associated  with  the  dogma  of  the 
fixity  of  their  concepts.  But  until  the  rise  of  pragmatism  no 
thoroughgoing  attempt  was  made  to  explain  the  fundamental 
notions  of  logic  itself  in  the  light  of  the  selection-hypothesis. 
The  isolation  of  logic  has  been  the  more  conspicuous  in  view  of 
the  development  of  the  closely  related  sciences  of  psychology  and 
ethics  under  the  application  of  evolutionary  methods,  hotly  con- 
tested though  such  application  has  been.  The  long  resistance 
of  logic  is,  indeed,  readily  intelligible.  The  capacity  for  reflective 
thought  has  from  the  time  of  Aristotle  been  regarded  as  the  dis- 
tinctive characteristic  of  man — the  one  essential  attribute  which 
eternally  separated  him  from  the  merely  animal.  But  the  evo- 
lutionary explanation  of  an  essence  is  more  than  a  contradiction 
in  terms.  It  is  the  forcible  collocation  of  diametrically  opposed 
tendencies  of  thought.  The  consequence  is  that  even  when  an 
evolutionary  origin  of  the  thought-function  is  conceded,  the 
rationalist  has  only  to  advance  a  definition  of  thought,  and  there- 
upon declare  that  so  long  as  thought  has  been  thought  it  must 
have  conformed  to  his  definition;  so  that  the  consideration  of 
any  prior  stage  in  the  development  is  superfluous. 

But  there  is  another  influence  which  has  opposed  the  entrance 
of  the  new  conception  of  evolution  within  the  realm  of  reflective 
thought;  namely,  absolute  idealism.  It  might,  perhaps,  be  sup- 
posed that  the  Hegelian  philosophy,  since  it  is  a  philosophy  of 
evolution,  would  be  the  first  to  welcome  and  appreciate  the 
Darwinian  theory  of  organic  evolution.  A  consideration  of  what 
the  concept  of  evolution  has  come  to  mean  under  the  influence  of 
Darwinism  will,  however,  reveal  its  thorough  incompatibility  with 
the  Hegelian  conception  of  the  process. 


THE   PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 


119 


I 


■' 


The  course  of  evolution  is  not  conceived  by  biologists  as  a 
dialectic.    The  forces  which  bring  about  the  successive  stages 
of  the  process  are  not  supposed  to  be  completely  contained  in 
the  nature  of  the  lower  forms  as  such.    The  course  of  evolution  ^ 
is  not  understood  as  logically  predetermined  by  the  concept  of 
these  forms.     In  short,  it  is  not  to  be  explained  in  terms  of  mere 
logical  relationship.    External  circumstances,  instead  of  being 
unessential,  and  as  likely  to  obscure  as  to  illuminate  the  signifi- 
cance of  the  process,  have  become  determining  factors,  a  detailed 
knowledge  of  which  is  indispensable  to  the  understanding  of  the 
evolution.     Had  external  circumstances  been  ever  so  little  dif- 
ferent, the  succeeding  stages  of  the  process  might  have  been 
profoundly  modified.    Thus  the  later  stage  can  no  longer  be 
regarded  as  the  realization  of  the  earlier.    There  is,  to  be  sure,  a 
certain  inclusion  of  the  features  of  the  earlier  in  the  structure  of 
the  later;  but  what  features  are  to  be  so  included,  and  what  ex- 
cluded, is  not  determined  by  the  essential  nature  of  the  lower 
form.     It  may,  perhaps,  be  said,  that  the  full  development  of  man 
was  implicit  in  the  earliest  vertebrate  forms;  but  so  too  were  the 
eagle  and  the  horse  and  the  other  existing  vertebrate  species— 
and  so  too  were  the  unnumbered  possible  forms  which  might 
have  developed  had  environmental  conditions  been  favorable. 
If  evolution  is  a  process  of  conservation,  it  is  equally  a  process 
of  waste;  for  the  selection  of  the  existing  lines  of  development 
has  been  at  the  expense  of  countless  other  possible  lines.     It  is 
not,  then,  properly  described  as  the  progressive  unfolding  of  a 
reality  potentially  existent  throughout.     In  a  word,  it  is  not  to 
be  regarded  as  a  teleological  process. 

In  view  of  this  transformation  wrought  in  the  idea  of  evolution 
by  the  Darwinian  hypothesis,  it  is  evident  that  a  treatment  of 
logical  problems  based  on  the  new  conception  must  differ  widely 
from  the  logical  theory  of  absolute  idealism.  In  the  first  place, 
there  is  a  tremendous  difference  of  standpoint  in  regard  to  the 
nature  and  position  of  thought  itself.  According  to  absolute 
idealism,  rational  thought,  since  it  is  the  outcome  of  the  process 


\ 


I20 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


if 


of  organic  development,  expresses  in  its  own  nature  the  essential 
truth  of  that  development,  comprehends  in  itself  all  the  earlier 
(aufgehobene)  stages.  Hence  in  its  own  unfolding  it  is  absolutely 
free,  that  is  to  say,  self-determining.  From  the  Darwinian  stand- 
point, on  the  contrary,  the  nature  of  thought  must  be  explained 
by  ascertaining  the  part  which  it  plays  in  the  life  of  the  organism. 
Thought,  instead  of  being  regarded  as  the  end  and  determinant 
of  organic  development,  is  a  product  and  (more  importantly)  a 
moment,  or  factor,  in  that  development, — a  factor  whose  exist- 
ence and  nature  are  throughout  conditioned  by  the  part  it  has 
to  perform  in  organic  life.  How  this  initial  attitude  toward 
the  nature  and  place  of  thought  affects  the  treatment  of  the  more 
important  problems  of  logical  theory,  it  will  shortly  be  our  task 
to  consider. 

In  the  second  place,  it  is  inevitable  that  the  new  evolutionary 
logic  should  be  distinguished  from  absolute  idealism  by  a  charac- 
teristically empiricistic  temper;  and  this  we  find  to  be  the  case. 
In  various  respects,  the  pragmatists  of  today  may  justly  be 
claimed  as  the  modern  representatives  of  the  school  of  Berkeley 
and  Hume.  This  is  notably  true  as  regards  the  place  accorded 
by  them  to  the  science  of  psychology,  which  with  them  becomes 
again  the  corner-stone  of  philosophy.  That  their  method  and 
their  theoretical  results  exhibit  marked  differences  from  those  of 
the  older  empiricists  is  largely  to  be  explained  as  a  consequence 
of  the  enormous  development  of  scientific  method  in  general 
and  of  psychological  science  in  particular.  Speaking  broadly, 
we  may  say  that  this  development  has  meant  the  emancipation 
of  psychology  from  the  presuppositions  of  the  old  dogmatism. 
Perhaps  the  chief  conception  that  has  thus  been  outgrown  is 
the  idea  of  analysis  into  elements  assumed  as  final. ^     In  psy- 

^"Current  sensationalism  is  a  result  to  which  we  are  led  by  empirical  analysis; 
and  its  sensations  are  simple  processes  abstracted  from  conscious  experience,  last 
terms  in  the  psychologyical  study  of  mind.  The  associationism  of  the  English 
school  is  a  preconceived  theory,  and  its  sensations  are,  accordingly,  productive 
and  generative  elements,  first  terms  in  a  logical  construction  of  mind."  Titchener, 
Lectures  in  the  Experimental  Psychology  of  the  Thought-Processes,  p.  34. 


THE  PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 


121 


\ 


I 


chology,  as  in  chemistry  and  physics,  the  dogma  of  the  absolutely 
simple  has  no  longer  any  place.  This  change  has  been  facilitated 
by  the  application  of  evolutionary  methods  in  psychological  in- 
vestigation and  the  adoption  of  the  functional  standpoint.  It  is 
not  that  the  modern  functional  psychologist  would  necessarily  ^y^ 
deny  the  possibility  of  the  analysis  of  psychological  phenomena 
into  irreducible  elements,  but  rather  that  it  is  not  in  such  terms 
that  the  problems  he  has  to  face  are  to  be  solved.  The  essential 
thing  to  be  explained  about  a  given  process  is,  on  the  one  hand, 
its  functional  relations  to  other  processes,  and,  on  the  other  hand , 
its  genetic  relationships.  The  mere  analysis  into  structural  ele-^ 
ments  is  of  secondary  importance,  subservient  to  the  functional 

problem. 

It  is,  then,  on  the  basis  of  the  functional  interpretation  of 
psychological  problems,  that  the  pragmatist  urges  so  insistently 
the  psychological  treatment  of  logical  theory.  The  traditional 
contention  of  the  Hegelian  school,  that  psychological  method  is 
fundamentally  incapable  of  dealing  with  logical  problems,  is 
based,  he  believes,  upon  the  conception  of  psychology  as  aiming 
at  a  merely  mechanical  explanation  of  mental  processes.  That 
the  contention  had  some  force  against  the  procedure  of  the  old 
empiricists,  he  would  admit.  Certainly  the  pragmatist  would 
as  readily  as  the  absolute  idealist  point  out  the  inadequacy  of 
such  alogical  elements  as  the  Berkeleyan  idea  and  the  Humian 
impression  to  provide  an  explanation  of  logical  processes.  But 
what  he  is  more  anxious  to  insist  on  is  the  greater  anachronism 
involved  in  the  Hegelian  attempt  to  treat  the  processes  of  re- 
flective thought  in  abstraction  from  their  genetic  and  functional 
relations  to  other  human  activities. 

There  is  a  more  general  sense,  in  which  the  temper  of  pragma- 
tism is  empirical ;  and  that  is  in  its  self-professed  affiliation  with 
the  empirical  sciences.  For(pragmatism  is  not,  at  least  in  its 
inception,  a  system  of  metaphysics.  It  has  stood  first  of  all 
for  the  application  of  empirical  scientific  methods— and  this  has 
meant  for  the  most  part  the  methods  of  functional  psychology— 


-  -■--■■  - "- 


122 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


THE   PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 


123 


^\ 


ii 


• 


to  certain  of  the  traditional  problems  of  philosophical  inquirvlj 
Furthermore  it  has  insisted  upon  the  specialization  of  these  prob- 
lems, in  order  to  make  them  amenable  to  empirical  treatment. 
This  has  involved  the  rejection,  as  illegitimately  abstract,  of 
some  of  the  most  important  of  the  traditional  problems;  most 
notably,  the  ontological  problem.  What  is  the  nature  of  reality? 
and  the  epistemological  problem.  How  is  knowledge  possible? 
Thus  Professor  Dewey  writes  in  the  Studies  in  Logical  Theory 
(p.  8):  'Trom  its  point  of  view  [that  of  an  instrumental  logic] 
an  attempt  to  discuss  the  antecedents,  data,  forms,  and  objec- 
tive of  thought,  apart  from  reference  to  particular  position  oc- 
cupied, and  particular  part  played,  in  the  growth  of  experience, 
is  to  reach  results  which  are  not  so  much  either  true  or  false  as 
they  are  radically  meaningless — because  they  are  considered  apart 
from  limits.  Its  results  are  not  only  abstractions  (for  all  theoriz- 
ing ends  in  abstractions) ,  but  abstractions  without  possible  refer- 
ence or  bearing.  From  this  point  of  view,  the  taking  of  some- 
thing, whether  that  something  be  thinking  activity,  its  empirical 
condition,  or  its  objective  goal,  apart  from  the  limits  of  a  historic 
or  developing  situation,  is  the  essence  of  metaphysical  procedure 
— in  the  sense  of  metaphysics  which  makes  a  gulf  between  it 
and  science."  A  greater  contrast  than  that  between  this  attitude 
and  the  Hegelian  conception  of  philosophy,  as  the  imparting  of  a 
true  universality  to  the  crude  results  of  merely  empirical  science, 
can  scarcely  be  imagined. 

Pragmatism,  as  a  philosophical  movement,  is  difficult  to  de- 
scribe and  impossible  to  define.  We  shall  not  attempt  to  do 
either.  As  hitherto,  we  shall  single  out  for  exposition  and  criti- 
cism those  features  which  appear  to  us  to  be  of  central  importance 
for  logical  theory,  paying  scant  attention  to  attendant  phenom- 
ena however  interesting — such,  for  example,  as  the  relation  of 
pragmatism  to  religious  faith.  Even  with  this  limitation  our 
task  will  be  embarrassingly  complex.  To  simplify  it,  we  propose 
to  limit  the  present  discussion  to  the  closely  connected  theories 


of  meaning  and  truth,  together  with  the  conception  of  reality 
which  these  theories  directly  imply;  postponing  to  appendices 
the  treatment  of  the  pragmatic  method,  the  will-to-helieve,  human- 
ism (the  theory  of  a  'plastic'  reality),  and  immediatism  (the 
theory  that  reality  is  experience  in  its  immediacy). 

A  further  motive  for  this  division  of  the  subject  will  become 
so  evident  as  we  proceed,  that  we  are  constrained  to  confess  it 
at  the  outset.     The  theories  to  be  treated  in  this  place  contain 
those  elements  of  the  complex  historical  whole  called  pragmatism, 
which  we  believe  to  be  on  the  side  of  truth — that  is  to  say,  true 
at  bottom,  and  especially  true  as  against  the  opponents  of  prag- 
matism.    While  we  shall  criticize  these  theories  at  considerable 
length  and — as  it  seems  to  us — unsparingly,  it  will  be  found  that 
our  criticisms  are  in  great  part  positive  and  constructive.     Our 
persistent  effort  will  be  to  exhibit  the  truth  in  pragmatism  at 
least  as  prominently  as  what  we  conceive  to  be  its  errors  and 
contradictions.     In  the  appendices  we  shall  discuss  those  doc- 
trines of  the  pragmatists  which  we  believe  to  be  radically  un- 
sound.    We  hope  that  upon  the  whole  our  treatment  will  impress 
the  reader  as  being  neither  an  attack  upon  pragmatism  nor  a 
defense  of  it.     We  believe  that  this  philosophy  contains  too  much 
of  good  and  of  evil  to  warrant  either  giode  of  procedure. 

The  main  charge  which  we  shall  bring  against  the  central  doc- 
trines of  pragmatism  will  be  apt,  we  fear,  to  strike  the  reader  as 
somewhat  forced  and  unfair.  And  yet  it  is  just  such  a  charge 
as  can  generally  be  made  out  against  any  revolutionary  creed— 
against  Descartes's  or  Kant's,  for  example— namely,  that  it  is 
only  half-free  from  the  grip  of  the  traditions  which  it  openly 
repudiates.  It  is  from  this  cause,  indeed,  that  most  of  the  ap- 
pearance of  extremism  is  due.  Real  extremes  meet.  The  rem- 
edy for  radicalism  of  every  sort  is,  not  a  mixture  of  conservatism 
—that  never  cures— but  a  more  thorough  carrying-through  of 
the  radical  principles.  Pragmatism  is  the  first  whole-hearted 
attempt  at  an  appreciation  of  the  significance  of  Darwinism  for 
logical  theory.     We  propose  to  show  that  the  attempt  has  only 


'  • 


124 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


I 


II 


I 

f 


t. 


i 


r.  ■ 


i^ 


half  succeeded ;  that  conceptions  and  methods  inherited  from  the 
dogmatic  empiricism  of  the  eighteenth  century  go  far  to  vitiate 
the  evolutionary  empiricism  of  today;  and  that  the  critical  re- 
vision of  these  inherited  notions  from  an  evolutionary  standpoint 
will  make  of  pragmatism  a  far  less  iconoclastic  movement. 

Our  first  endeavor  must  be  to  present  a  brief  and  simple  out- 
line of  the  central  doctrines,  permitting  ourselves  only  so  much 
criticism  as  may  be  necessary  to  clearness  of  exposition.  We 
begin  by  summarizing  the  elementary  facts  and  conclusions  of 
functional  psychology,  which  pragmatism  has  taken  as  its  point 
of  departure. 

The  conception  of  consciousness  as  an  instrument  lies  very 
close  to  the  fundamental  principles  of  the  Darwinian  theory. 
Like  every  other  character  of  complex  living  organisms,  con- 
sciousness has  had  its  history  and  presumably  its  origin.  How^ 
indeed,  it  first  arose  is  one  of  the  unfathomed  mysteries.  But, 
both  in  its  first  appearance  and  in  the  general  course  of  its  later 
development,  it  must  have  possessed  a  survival-value  which  deter- 
mined its  persistence  amid  the  universal  struggle  for  existence. 
The  determination  of  this  survival-value  is  a  matter  of  consider- 
able interest — far  more  so  ^than  any  speculation  as  to  a  possible 
origin.  Not  the  accident  or  series  of  accidents,  through  which 
consciousness  as  a  variation  took  its  rise,  but  the  utility  which 
led  to  its  selection  and  perpetuation — that  is  the  "matter  of  vital 
scientific  concern. 

The  peculiar  survival-value  of  consciousness  appears  to  consist 
in  the  fact  that  it  provides  a  more  minute  adjustment  of  reaction 
to  external  stimulus  than  is  afforded  by  any  other  organic 
agency.  This  superiority,  again,  depends  very  intimately 
upon  the  learning-process.  By  reason  of  this  process  exist- 
ing correlations  may,  if  they  prove  insufficient,  be  promptly 
modified  in  accordance  with  the  needs  of  the  organism.  It 
is  true  that  suggestive  analogies  to  the  learning-process  may 
be  pointed    out    in    the    field    of    inorganic    chemistry,  as  well 


i« 


THE   PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 


I2S 


as  in  the  behavior  of  vegetable  organisms,  to  which  we 
hesitate  to  ascribe  consciousness.  Such  facts,  however,  need 
not  lead  us  to  modify  the  general  proposition  that  the  survi- 
val-value of  consciousness  consists  in  its  enabling  the  organism 
to  learn.  And,  practically  speaking,  the  ability  to  learn  is  the 
only  test  by  means  of  which  the  presence  of  consciousness  in 
any  organism  can  be  demonstrated. 

The  most  elementary  form  of  the  learning-process,  and  that 
which  furnishes  a  general  type  for  all  the  more  complicated  forms 
may  be  succinctly  described  as  follows.     If  the  mode  of  behavior 
which  is  modified  by  the  learning-process  be  called  habit  (the 
term  being  used  in  its  widest  sense,  including  instinctive  be- 
havior), then,  conversely,  the  primary  function  of  consciousness 
may  be  described  as  the  modification  of  habit.    The  inadequacy 
or  inappropriateness  of  habitual  response,  from  which  the  activity 
of  consciousness  upon  any  occasion  takes  its  rise,  is  evidenced  by 
an  unpleasant  feeling.     And  the  readjustment  in  which  the  task 
of  consciousness  finds  its  accomplishment  is  marked  by  a  feeling 
of  pleasure,  which,  however,  vanishes  as  the  readjustment  be- 
comes complete.    The  task  of  consciousness  may  be  described 
as  the  forming  of  a  distinction  between  the  stimulus  which  has 
normally  provoked  a  certain  response,  and  a  second  stimulus, 
which  so  far  resembles  the  first  as  originally  to  elicit  the  same 
response,  but  with  unpleasant  effects.    The  task  is  accomplished 
when  this  latter  stimulus  has  acquired  its  own  peculiar  satis- 
factory response,  following  it  invariably  and  without  confusion; 
whereupon  consciousness  gradually  disappears.     Thus,  speaking 
generally,  we  may  say  that  consciousness  becomes  active,  only 
as  it  becomes  necessary  in  order  to  eke  out  the  inadequacy  of 
existing  modes  of  reaction— where  its  peculiar  survival  value 
comes  into  play.    So  long  as  the  habit  serves,  consciousness  exists, 
if  at  all,  only  as  a  vanishing  quantity. 

The  phrase,  "the  forming  of  a  distinction,'*  which  we  have 
used,  is  ambiguous,  or  rather  has  a  double  meaning.  The  learn- 
ing-process is  at  once  the  development  of  behavior  and  the 


-^t 


126 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


THE    PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 


127 


I . 


'\ 


r 


I' 


development  of  ideas;  and  the  latter  phase,  like  the  former,  is  a 
differentiation  of  the  parts  of  a  complex  from  a  relatively  simple 
datum.     Furthermore,  the  development  of  ideas  is  essentially 
the  development  of  interests.     Amid  the  primitive  formlessness 
of  the  infant's  world — a  formlessness  which  yet  pervades  all  but 
a  little  of  our  own — only  that  is  distinguished  which  catches  its 
instinctive  attention;  and  if  we  adults  see  more,  that  is  because 
we  have  felt  more.     The  function  of  consciousness  in  the  biologi- 
cal organism  being  the  control  of  conduct,  it  is  only  in  and  through 
the  performance  of  that  function  that  its  development  is  possible. 
If  we  examine  into  the  use  and  context  of  a  newly  developed 
idea,  we  find  that  we  must  recognize:  (i)  its  relation  to  the 
relatively  simple  idea  from  which  it  has  sprung,  as  well  as  to  the 
contrasted  idea  from  which  it  has  been  distinguished   (and,  per- 
haps, soon  also  to  the  more  complex  ideas  to  which  it  in  turn 
gives  rise) ;  and  (2)  its  relation  to  the  conduct  to  which  it  prompts 
— briefly  and  crudely— its  genetic  and  functional  relations.     Both 
of  these  are  somewhat  indiscriminately  included  under  the  term 
'meaning'.     The  terms  'content'  and  'import'  seem  to  mark  the 
distinction  fairly  well,  and  we  shall  find  occasion  to  employ  them 
later.     As  the  process  of  habituation  proceeds  and  conduct  ap- 
proaches the  automatic  stage,  both  aspects  of  the  meaning  of  the 
controlling  ideas  suffer  gradual  decay. 

It  is  the  latter  (functional)  aspect  that  pragmatists  have  gener- 
ally seized  upon  as  constituting  the  'meaning'  of  ideas.  Such 
usage  is,  of  course,  in  itself  perfectly  legitimate.  The  question, 
whether  the  genetic  aspect  has  not  been  unduly  neglected,  never- 
theless remains.  And  as  the  pragmatist  theory  of  truth  is  essen- 
tially an  evolutionary  one,  such  neglect,  if  it  has  occurred,  might 
well  have  serious  consequences. 

The  following  passage,  in  which  Professor  James  (writing  in 
1906)  summarizes  the  contentions  of  Mr.  Charles  Peirce  (as  ex- 
pressed in  1878),  exhibits  very  clearly  the  conception  of  meaning 
generally  held  by  pragmatists.     ".  .  .  Mr.  Peirce,  after  pointing 


out  that  our  beliefs  are  really  rules  for  action,  said  that,  to  develop 
a  thought's  meaning,  we  need  only  determine  what  conduct  it  is 
fitted  to  produce:^  that  conduct  is  for  us  its  sole  significance. 
And  the  tangible  fact  at  the  root  of  all  our  thought-distinctions, 
however  subtle,  is  that  there  is  no  one  of  them  so  fine  as  to  consist 
in  anything  but  a  possible  difference  of  practice.  To  attain  per- 
fect clearness  in  our  thoughts  of  an  object,  then,  we  need  only 
consider  what  conceivable  effects  of  a  practical  kind  the  ob- 
ject may  involve — ^what  sensations  we  are  to  expect  from 
it,  and  what  reactions  we  must  prepare.  Our  conception  of 
these  effects,  whether  immediate  or  remote,  is  then  for  us  the 
whole  of  our  conception  of  the  object  so  far  as  that  conception 
has  positive  significance  at  all."  To  the  same  purport  is  the 
opinion  of  Ostwald,— "All  realities  influence  our  practice,  and 
that  influence  is  their  meaning  for  us."  Upon  which  Professor 
James  comments  that  "meaning  other  than  practical,  there  is 

for  us  none. "2 

So  far,  then,  as  these  passages  are  typical,  the  assertion 
holds,  that  for  pragmatism  the  relation  of  an  idea  to  the  vaguer 
idea  within  which  the  distinction  occurred  that  gave  rise  to  it, 
as  well  as  to  the  more  concrete  ideas  which  may  arise  by  distinc- 
tion within  itself,  forms  no  part  of  the  meaning  of  the  idea. 
And  yet  it  is  by  reference  to  these  relations  that  functional 
psychology  must  explain  a  whole  group  of  conceptions  which 
would  ordinarily  be  regarded  as  having  something  to  do  with 
meaning;  e.  g.,  genus  and  species,  definition,  division,  and  predi- 
cation generally. 

But  while  the  above  assertion  is  formally  correct  as  an  account 
of  a  prevalent  use  of  terms,  it  is  not  wholly  just  as  an  appraise- 
ment of  the  pragmatist  theory  of  meaning.  It^is  not  simply 
that  certain  members  of  the  school  may  be  pointed  out  as  speci- 
fically recognizing  content  as  a  kind  or  aspect  of  meaning,^  and 

iThe  pragmatic  method,  treated  in  Appendix  I. 
^Pragmatism,  pp.  46-48. 

'Note  (e.  g.)  Professor  Dewey's  incisive  inquiry  with  respect  to  the  pragmatic 
method:  "Does  Mr.  James  employ  the  pragmatic  method  to  discover  the  value 


128 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


111 


that  particular  passages  to  this  effect  are  to  be  found  in  the 
works  of  the  others.  The  more  important  fact  is  that  the  two- 
fold conception  of  meaning — as  content  and  import — is  plainly 
implied  in  the  pragmatist  theory  of  truth ;  to  which  we  now  turn. 

Truth  is  a  property  which  we  attribute  to  our  beliefs — so  far 
as  we  do,  indeed,  believe  in  them.  Whether  the  particular 
beliefs  actually  possess  this  property  or  not,^  the  meaning  of  the 
property  itself,  which  is  thus  attributed  to  them,  is  of  course 
unchanged.  A  method  is  accordingly  suggested  for  analyzing 
our  conception  of  truth;  namely,  the  genetic  method  that  con- 
sists in  observing  the  conditions  under  which  belief  changes  and 
the  general  features  of  the  process  of  change — how  doubt  arises, 
how  speculation  proceeds,  and  how  belief  becomes  reestablished. 

As  a  result  of  such  observation,  it  is  found  that  truth  contains 
two  essential  factors,  which  (we  would  note  in  passing)  are  analo- 
gous to  the  two  aspects  of  meaning  already  noted.  One  is  con- 
sistency^ with  other  beliefs  (including,  by  indirection,  the  beliefs 

in  terms  of  consequences  in  life  of  some  formula  which  has  its  content,  its  logical 
meaning,  already  fixed;  or  does  he  employ  it  to  criticise  and  revise,  and  ultimately, 
to  constitute  the  proper  intellectual  meaning  of  that  formula?"  And  below  (with 
reference  to  the  pragmatic  determination  of  the  meaning  of  design  in  nature,  as  a 
'vague  confidence  in  the  future'):  "Is  this  meaning  intended  to  replace  the  meaning 
of  a  'seeing  force  which  runs  things'?  Or  is  it  intended  to  superadd  a  pragmatic 
value  and  validation  to  that  concept  of  a  seeing  force?  Or  does  it  mean  that, 
irrespective  of  the  existence  of  any  such  object,  a  belief  in  it  has  that  value?  Strict 
pragmatism  would  seem  to  require  the  first  interpretation,  but  I  do  not  think 
that  is  what  Mr.  James  intends."  Journal  of  Philosophy,  Psychology,  and  Scientific 
Methods,  V,  pp.  90,  91. 

^Cf.  James,  The  Meaning  of  Truth,  p.  183. 

'On  account  of  the  one-sidedness  of  the  usual  pragmatist  account  of  meaning, 
the  writers  of  the  school  are  unable  to  give  a  very  definite  account  of  this  consis- 
tency, harmony,  or  agreement.  We  are  told  simply  that  we  "feel"  that  certain 
ideas  are  in  agreement  with  other  parts  of  experience,  "such  feeling  being  among 
our  potentialities"  (Pragmatism,  p.  201,  cf.  Meaning  of  Truth,  p.  loi,  11.  1-7).  This 
is  the  old  empiricist  faculty  of  'comparison*  over  again,  with  the  important  dif- 
ference, to  be  sure,  that  the  consciousness  of  agreement  is  (or  may  be)  simultaneous 
with,  rather  than  posterior  to,  the  consciousness  of  the  terms  compared.  But 
though  the  existence  of  such  a  faculty,  or  potentiality,  be  admitted,  the  problem 
certainly  remains  of  determining  under  what  conditions  the  feeling  is  felt.  Even  so, 
in  the  case  of  an  externally  excited  sensation,  such  as  sweet  or  bitter,  we  are  not 


THE   PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 


129 


:( 


of  Other  men  in  whose  judgment  we  have  confidence) ;  the  other 
is  the  satisfactory  guidance  of  conduct.  The  truth  of  an  idea  is, 
then,  its  workability  in  combination  with  our  other  ideas.  Thus 
the  interpretation  of  a  new  experience,  in  such  a  way  as  to  conflict 
with  a  great  body  of  accepted  maxims,  can  hardly  ever  win  our 
acceptance,  no  matter  how  successfully  it  suggests  the  conduct 
suitable  to  the  circumstances.  And,  contrariwise,  howevei 
beautifully  a  theory  may  harmonize  with  accepted  notions,  its 
persistent  failure  in  practice  not  only  condemns  it  but  casts  doubt 
upon  the  old  notions  as  well.  Change  of  belief  is  thus  character- 
ized by  the  continuity  which  belongs  to  evolution  generally.  Ex 
isting  structures  and  functions  are  modified  as  slightly  as  possible, 
in  accordance  with  new  demands;  and,  moreover,  such  modifica- 
tion as  occurs  is  always  more  apt  to  attach  to  recently  acquired, 
than  to  older  (and  thus  more  deeply  involved),  features. 

The  truth-formula  is  most  frequently  presented  by  pragmatists 
in  a  form  which  consolidates  the  two  factors.  Recognizing  that 
consistency  is  itself  an  important  subject  of  human  interest, 
they  declare  that  the  truth  of  an  idea  is  its  satis f actor iness — in- 
cluding the  satisfaction  of  intellectual  interests  as  well  as  of  all 
others  that  may  be  involved.  There  may  be  matter  for  serious 
criticism  here  (as  we  hope  hereafter  to  show) ;  but  in  fairness  it 
must  be  said  that  a  mere  confusion,  in  which  the  specific  character 

wholly  satisfied  with  the  statement,  that  the  experience  of  these  sensations  is  a 
potentiality  of  our  nature.  We  desire  to  know  the  general  characteristics  of  their 
respective  stimuli.  It  is  a  pressing  problem  of  psychophysics.  Even  so  the  moral- 
sense  school  of  ethicists,  who  believed  the  feeling  of  approbation  to  be  an  original, 
fundamental  endowment  of  our  nature,  recognized  the  problem  of  determining  what 
the  object  of  this  peculiar  reflective  sense  was.  Indeed,  they  differed  among  them- 
selves upon  the  matter,  Shaftesbury,  Hutcheson,  and  Hume  having  each  his  own 
characteristic  theory.  Now  it  is  clear  that  logic  has  at  least  an  equal  interest 
in  determining  the  general  nature  of  the  combinations  of  ideas  (or  other  forms 
of  experience)  which  are  felt  to  agree.  The  mere  fact  that  they  are  felt  to  agree 
is  so  far  from  being  a  solution  that  it  is  what  sets  the  logical  problem. 

If  we  are  correct  in  our  interpretation.  Professor  James  and  his  more  immediate 
friends  have  formally  deprived  themselves  of  the  only  means  of  attacking,  much 
less  of  solving,  this  problem.  That  the  deprivation  is  only  formal,  and  can  be 
amended  in  full  accordance  with  the  general  spirit  of  the  pragmatist  theory,  we 
freely  admit. 
10 


13° 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


THE   PRINCIPLES  OF  PRAGMATISM 


131 


: 

« 

I' 


of  intellectual  interests  is  lost  sight  of,  is  not  to  be  attributed  to 
pragmatists  generally.  The  consolidated  formula  is,  however, 
significant  to  this  extent,  that  the  various  interests  which  may 
be  active  summate  themselves  in  the  total  effect.  The  acceptance 
of  a  truth  by  no  means  implies  either  its  perfect  accordance  with 
other  accepted  truths  or  the  unmixed  satisfactoriness  of  its  prac- 
tical working-out.  It  is  "eminently  a  matter  of  approximation." 
And,  as  elsewhere  in  human  life,  the  choice  of  the  best  involves  a 
compromise.  To  insist  too  rigidly  on  the  theoretical  criterion 
is  the  part  of  mere  visionaries;  to  slight  it  almost  entirely  for 
the"practical  criterion  is  the  part  of  short-sighted  dolts.  The 
average  man  is  content  with  truth  that  avoids  explicit  self-con- 
tradiction and  saves  him  from  the  ruder  shocks.  In  the  last 
resort,  however,  all  this  is  a  matter  of  individual  taste.  "We 
say  this  theory  solves  it  on  the  whole  more  satisfactorily  than 
that  theory;  but  that  means  more  satisfactorily  to  ourselves, 
and  individuals  will  emphasize  their  points  of  satisfaction  dif- 

ferently."^ 

It  is  noteworthy  that  bdkf,  rather  than  knowledge,  is  the 
starting-point  of  the  pragmatist  epistemology.  This  has  at  least 
the  controversial  advantage,  that  while  the  very  possibility  of 
knowledge  has  been  questioned,  no  one  has  dreamed  of  question- 
ing the  possibility  of  belief.  The  theory  is  thus  founded  upon 
patent  matter  of  fact.  It  has,  however,  this  difficulty.  Truth 
is  defined  as  a  property  attributed  to  beliefs.  *  It  thus  remains 
undetermined  whether  any  belief  actually  possesses  this  property ; 
that  is  to  say,  is  reasonably  consistent  with  all  other  unquestioned 
beliefs,  and  is  incapable  of  serious  failure  in  practice.  But  the 
pragmatist,  in  a  genuinely  empirical  spirit,  does  not  hesitate  to 
take  his  stand  upon  the  beliefs  actually  and  commonly  enter- 
tained by  men  as  true.  Truths  are  for  him,  primarily  at  least, 
the  truths  of  actual  practice — that  is  to  say,  the  beliefs  that  are 
recognized  as  true.  The  distinction  between  knowledge  and  be- 
lief is  then  interpreted  as  one  of  degree  only.  Our  knowledge  is 
simply  the  body  of  our  best  attested  beliefs. 

^Pragmatism,  p.  61. 


What  becomes  of  the  conception  of  an  absolute  knowledge — 
of  beliefs  possessed  of  absolute  truth?     It  acquires  the  potent 
significance  of  an  ideal  limit.     For  the  change  of  human  beliefs 
is  by  no  means  altogether  a  mere  fluctuation.     In  great  part, 
it  shows  itself  to  be  a  gradual  convergence;  and  this  is  especially 
true  of  the  history  of  the  sciences.     Now  a  convergence  may  be 
conceived  as  having  a  finite  terminus  or  as  proceeding  ad  infini- 
tum.    In  the  case  of  the  progress  of  knowledge,  however,  it  is 
hard  to  see  how  the  attainment  of  a  terminus  could  be  sufficiently 
attested.     For  it  has  happened  repeatedly,  that  beliefs  which 
for  centuries  have  been  regarded  as  possessing  a  certainty  which 
nothing  could  surpass,  are  found  to  require  correction.     Never- 
theless it  may  be  admitted,  that  if  a  considerable  body  of  science 
should  remain  for  a  great  length  of  time  without  modification, 
men  would  feel  obliged — as  they  have  felt  under  similar  circum- 
stances in  the  past — to  regard  such  knowledge  as  ultimate.     But 
from  the  vantage  ground  of  the  opening  twentieth  century,  it 
seems  far  more  natural  to  regard  scientific  progress  as  the  con- 
vergence upon  a  goal  which  will  never  be  definitely  reached. 
The  question  whether  the  goal  is  attainable  or  not,  is  a  question, 
which,  from  the  present  standpoint  of  science,  leaves  the  meaning 
of  the  goal  unaffected ;  for  its  attainment  is  beyond  any  reason- 
able expectation.     Absolute  truth  is  truth  incapable  of  correc- 
tion.    Whether  such  truth  can  be  secured,  only  time  can  tell.^ 

The  pragmatist  theory  of  reality  offers  serious  difficulty  to 
the  expositor,  and  that  for  two  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  its 
most  distinguished  advocates  are  also  believers  in  humanism  or 
immediatism  or  both ;  and  while  they  generally  endeavor  to  keep 
these  theories  apart,  human  nature  forbids  that  they  should  in- 
variably succeed.  In  the  second  place,  there  is,  we  believe,  a 
frequent  ambiguity  even  in  the  definitely  pragmatist  usage  of  the 

iThis  holds  as  a  general  statement  of  the  pragmatist  position  in  the  matter. 
We  shall  hereafter  have  occasion  to  call  attention  to  a  class  of  absolutely  true 
beliefs,  which  Mr.  James  believes  to  be  even  now  entertained  by  us.  Our  belief 
that  two  and  one  make  three  is  an  example. 


132 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


THE   PRINCIPLES   OF   PRAGMATISM 


133 


i 


I- 


M 


Hi 
r 


term  'reality.'  That  is  to  say,  the  term  denotes  either  a  belief, 
qualified  as  knowledge,  or  the  things  and  relations  which  make 
up  the  object  of  the  belief.  In  Mr.  James's  Pragmatism^  these 
figure  as  distinct  kinds  of  realities,  with  which  a  new  idea  must 
'agree'  if  it  is  to  be  accepted  as  true.  Now  it  appears  to  us 
perfectly  clear,  that  the  belief  and  its  object  are  not  kinds  of 
realities  (as  if  'reality'  were  a  generic  term  comprehending  them 
both),  but  realities  in  different  senses  of  the  term.  In  a  later 
volume  the  author  of  Pm£wa/i5m  assumes  that  "the  only  realities 
we  can  talk  about"  are  objects-believed-in.^  This  we  take  to  be 
obviously  the  better  statement,  and  we  propose  to  hold  to  it  in 
this  place. 

Reality,  then,  may  be  said  to  have  two  aspects  corresponding 
to  the  two  factors  in  truth  itself.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  that  with 
which  our  ideas  must  agree  if  they  are  to  be  true.  In  the  second 
place,  it  is  that  to  which  our  conduct  must  conform  if  it  is  to  be 
satisfactory.  More  briefly,  it  is  on  the  one  hand  the  object  of 
knowledge,  and  on  the  other  hand  the  condition  of  success  and 
failure.  It  is  a  principal  object  of  the  pragmatists  to  exhibit 
the  essential  unity  of  these  two  aspects,  and  they  do  not  consider 
them  separately.  We  think,  however,  that  for  the  purposes  of 
the  present  exposition  a  brief  separate  treatment  may  be  helpful. 

Reality,  as  the  object  of  knowledge,  is  conceived  to  be  relative 
or  absolute,  according  as  the  knowledge  itself  is  accepted  as 
relative  or  absolute.  Primarily,  reality  means  the  realities  of 
actual  experience  and  expectation.  Though,  upon  sufficient  re- 
flection we  may  admit  that  these  realities  have  not  been  definitely 
ascertained,  nevertheless,  in  so  far  as  we  naively  accept  them, 
we  accept  them  as  if  they  were  absolute — that  is  to  say,  as 
perfect  standards  to  which  our  other  beliefs  (as  well  as  the  beliefs 
of  other  men)  must,  if  they  are  to  be  true,  exactly  conform. 
They  are  believed  in  as  if  their  existence  were  independent  of 
the  present  belief  itself ;  as  if  a  change  of  belief  would  be  a  change 
from  true  to  false,  leaving  the  reality  itself  unchanged.     The 

^The  Meaning  of  Truth,  p.  236.     The  whole  passage  is  a  silent,  perhaps  uncon- 
scious, correction  of  the  looser  exposition  given  in  Lecture  VI  of  Pragmatism, 


distinction  between  relative  and  absolute  reality  is  thus  a  reflec- 
tive afterthought.  Absolute  reality  is  the  object  of  absolute 
knowledge— the  unattained  standard,  which,  if  it  were  present 
to  us,  would,  indeed,  afford  an  ultimate  test  of  truth  or  falsity. 
The  conception  is  therefore,  like  that  of  absolute  knowledge, 
based  upon  the  experienced  development  of  human  beliefs. 

The  leading  pragmatists  are  unanimous  in  protesting  against 
the  charge  of  subjectivism,  which  their  critics  have,  with  almost 
equal  unanimity,  brought  against  them.  With  respect  to  the 
continued  existence  of  sensible  things,  when  not  perceived  by  us, 
they  declare  that  they  regard  this  as  the  best  supported  of  all 
human  inferences.  And  the  answer  to  the  occasional  charge  of 
solipsism  is  precisely  similar. 

'  Reality  in  its  other  aspect,  as  the  condition  of  success  or  failure, 
is  assuredly  no  new  discovery  of  the  pragmatists.  Their  merit— 
or  crime,  if  you  please— is  that  they  have  insisted  upon  the  essen- 
tiality of  this  aspect,  instead  of  regarding  it  as  a  mere  'external* 
property.  While  philosophy  and  common  sense  have  always 
been  agreed  that  reality  makes  a  great  difference  to  us,  the 
pragmatists  have  made  themselves  conspicuous  by  maintaining 
that  nothing  is  real  except  in  so  far  as  it  makes  a  difference 

to  us. 

This  doctrine  should  be  carefully  distinguished  from  the  theory 
of  the  will-to-believe,  as  well  as  from  the  allied  theory  of  human- 
ism ;  and  we  hope  that  our  treatment  of  these  two  theories  will 
make  the  difference  clear.  Here  we  can  only  call  attention  to 
the  fact,  that  in  conceiving  reality  as  the  condition  of  happiness, 
nothing  is  implied  as  to  any  function  of  desire  in  legitimizing 
belief,  or  as  to  the  efficacy  of  human  desires  in  changing  a  'plastic' 
reality.  Nor  is  the  pragmatist  theory  of  reality  a  mere  optimism. 
So  far  from  suggesting  that  evil  realities  do  not  exist,  it  suggests 
very  forcibly  that  they  do  exist,  and  declares  that  the  evilness 
of  such  realities  is  an  essential  factor  in  constituting  them  as 

real. 

The  whole  line  of  thought  may  be  comprehended  in  the  single 


134 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


1 


'■ 


i 


i! 


formula,  that  reality  is  the  object  of  interest.  Herein  is  suggested 
one  of  the  most  significant  scientific  developments  of  recent 
times,  the  re-born  theory  of  the  objectivity  of  values.  It  would 
lead  us  too  far  afield  to  enlarge  upon  this  theory.  Suffice  it  to 
point  out  that  whereas  pragmatism  has  been  currently  con- 
founded with  subjective  idealism,  its  real  tendency  is  to  extend 
the  boundaries  of  the  objective  rather  than  the  subjective  world. 


CHAPTER  H      . 

EXAMINATION   OF   THE    PRINCIPLES 

We  have  confessed  to  an  extensive  agreement  with  the  pragma- 
tist  theories  set  forth  above.  Whether  the  agreement  be  regarded 
as  a  fundamental  one,  will  doubtless  depend  upon  the  point  of 
view.  It  is  natural  for  us  to  regard  as  fundamental  in  pragma- 
tism the  portion  of  truth  which  we  find  there.  The  pragmatists 
themselves  may  easily  think  otherwise.  How  important  the 
agreement  is,  may  be  judged  from  the  criticisms  which  we  offer 

here. 

A  serious  weakness  in  this  system,  as  we  conceive  it,  may  be 
traced  to  a  certain  peculiar  assumption  which  has  apparently 
been  inherited  from  the  biological  ethics  of  the  last  generation,— 
an  assumption  which  pragmatism  ought,  indeed,  to  have  been 
the  first  to  denounce.  This  is,  that  the  whole  utility— or,  at 
least,  the  ultimate  utility— of  a  newly  arising  function  consists 
in  its  supplementation  of  previously  existing  functions,  in  the 
accomplishment  of  previously  existing  ends.  In  reliance  upon  this 
assumption,  a  previous  generation  of  evolutionists  attempted  to 
discover  a  'sanction'  for  morality  in  the  general  characteristics 
of  prehuman  evolution;  and  the  present  theory  follows  a  simi- 
lar course  with  respect  to  logical  thought  and  consciousness  in 

general. 

That  pragmatism  ought  to  have  rejected  such  an  assumption 
will  appear,  when  it  is  reflected  that  it  is  a  form  of  that  very 
doctrine  of  logical  priority,  the  denial  of  which  is  vital  to  the 
whole  revolt  against  dogmatic  absolutism.  To  assume  that  new 
ends  must^  be  interpreted  simply  as  means  to  old  ones— or,  at 
most,  as  new  elements  in  old  ends,  upon  a  par  with  the  rest— is 
to  give  up  the  whole  instrumentalist  position  without  a  struggle. 
It  is  to  grant  to  the  final  ends  a  species  of  finality,  for  which  no 

place  should  now  be  left. 

135 


13^ 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


EXAMINATION   OF   THE   PRINCIPLES 


137 


I 


\\< 


} 


Such  being  the  case,  we  are  led  to  wonder  how  so  obvious  an 
inconsistency  came  to  be  overlooked — how  'adaptation'  and  'sur- 
vival' came  to  be  used,  as  if  they,  unlike  all  other  terms,  pos- 
sessed at  least  a  core  of  absolutely  fixed  significance.  The  only 
answer  which  suggests  itself  is  that  these  terms  are,  indeed, 
fundamental  to  the  Darwinian  theory,  in  which  the  psychology 
of  pragmatism  took  its  rise.  In  that  theory,  survival  passes  for 
the  essential  precondition  of  all  the  various  phenomena  of  life ; 
and  adaptation  is  defined  in  turn  as  the  precondition  of  survival. 
A  very  cursory  examination,  however,  serves  to  show  that  neither 
conception  can  maintain  its  integrity.  Survival,  for  example, 
changes  its  meaning  most  plastically  according  to  the  object  to 
which  it  is  referred.  The  survival  of  the  individual  is  one  thing, 
and  the  survival  of  the  species  is  another;  while  the  survival 
of  the  group — which  is  as  compatible  w^ith  extinction  of  an  original 
stock  as  survival  of  the  species  is  compatible  with  the  downfall 
of  all  its  individuals — implies  no  more  than  that  successors  to  its 
former  membership  remain ;  and  the  manner  in  which  admission 
to  membership  in  the  group  takes  place  is  practically  unlimited, 
varying  according  to  the  nature  of  the  group  in  question.  The 
survival  of  a  custom  or  an  art  is  similarly  independent  of  that  of 
the  group  which  practices  or  cultivates  it.  Taken  generally, 
therefore,  survival  is  one  of  the  vaguest  and  emptiest  of  concepts. 
It  means  no  more  than  continued  existence;  and,  as  is  the  case 
with  existence  itself,  its  meaning  changes  enormously  with  the 
subject  of  which  it  is  predicated. 

Why,  then,  has  the  survival  of  the  species  been  conceded  such 
preeminence  as  the  end  of  all  organic  functions?  Simply  because 
organisms  reproduce  after  their  kind,  and  such  reproduction  is, 
in  general,  the  only  means  by  which  traits  are  transmitted  from 
one  generation  to  another.  The  term  'end,'  as  used  in  this  con- 
nection, is,  of  course,  originally  a  metaphor  derived  from  human 
purposes:  the  end  of  a  function  is  the  interesting  outcome  toward 
which  it  appears  to  be  directed.  Strictly  speaking,  however, 
the  term  has  come  to  indicate  primarily  an  effect  which  is  essential 


) 


iti 


to  the  repetition  or  continuance  of  its  cause;  and  secondarily  any 
link  in  the  chain  of  events  leading  from  the  cause  to  the  effect; 
or  briefly,  to  use  a  well-worn  phrase,  an  effect  determining  its 
cause.  Now  it  is  obvious  that  in  relation  to  organic  functions 
transmitted  by  reproduction,  the  survival  of  the  species  stands 
as  such  an  end.  If  it  is  not  secured,  they  cease  to  be;  and  it  is 
thus  a  permanent  condition  in  accordance  with  which  their 
evolution  has  come  to  pass.  In  a  general  way  this  applies  as 
well  to  consciousness  as  to  any  other  organic  function. 

With  regard  to  at  least  certain  of  the  particular  forms  of  con- 
sciousness—ideas, sentiments,  and  the  like-a  very  different  ac- 
count must  be  given;  for,  as  is  well  known,  these  are  not  per- 
petuated in  the  same  manner,  and  accordingly  their  development 
is  quite  otherwise  determined.  To  be  sure,  such  mental  processes 
are  necessarily  the  outgrowth  of  inherited  capacities,  and  these 
must  be  maintained  by  an  unbroken  heredity  if  the  whole  function 
is  not  to  disappear.  But  within  the  limit  thus  assigned  so  definite 
and  extensive  a  variation  has  occurred,  that  to  speak  of  survival 
in  the  biologist's  sense  as  the  end  of  consciousness  is  a  monstrous 

distortion  of  the  facts. 

For  in  the  rise  of  consciousness  a  second  end  (in  the  sense  above 
defined)  emerges,  namely,  the  satisfaction  of  desire,  or  happiness. 
That  happiness  does  thus  operate  as  a  determining  condition  in 
the  psychical  selection  by  which  the  more  complex  mental  proc- 
esses are  developed,  is  well  known;  and  none  have  illustrated  the 
fact  better  than  the  pragmatists.    Their  fault,  as  we  conceive  it. 
has  been  a  failure  to  distinguish  accurately  between  the  condi- 
tions of  happiness  and  those  of  survival.    This  has  led  to  a 
distressing  ambiguity  in  the  use  of  such  terms  as  'need,'  'adjust- 
ment,' 'failure,'  'working,'  etc.,  referring  to  the  presence  or  ab- 
sence of  both  classes  of  conditions  at  once— an  ambiguity  which 
has  done  more  to  prevent  a  wide  acceptance  of  pragmatism 
than  any  other  single  circumstance. 

In  urging  the  necessity  of  keeping  ourselves  clear  upon  this 
point,  we  do  not  wish  to  suggest  a  questioning  of  the  pr.agmatist 


138 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


EXAMINATION    OF   THE   PRINCIPLES 


139 


*l 


t 


(i  i 


I 


t:i 


w 


doctrine  that  all  ideas  refer  ultimately  to  modes  of  behavior, 
that  is,  to  correlations  of  stimulus  and  response.     This  we  believe 
to  be  substantially  true,  though  with  reservations  which  will  be 
noted  hereafter;  and  we  have  met  with  no  contemporary  dis- 
cussion which  seriously  hinders  its  acceptance.     No,  our  simple 
contention  is  that  the  development  of  conduct,  which  is  at  the 
same  time  the  development  of  consciousness,  is  only  remotely 
and  to  a  limited  degree  controlled  by  natural  selection;  that 
is  to  say,  that  though  this  development  has  its  beginnings  in 
hereditary  tendencies  whose  perpetuation  has  been  due  to  their 
survival  value,  and  though  it  must  remain  within  the  bounds  set 
by  the  necessity  for  the  continuity  of  the  organic  stock,  never- 
theless, as  the  process  advances  in  complexity,  comparative  sur- 
vival values  have  less  and  less  to  do  with  its  determination. 
In  man,  at  any  rate,  mental  development  is  a  social  phenomenon; 
and  while  natural  selection  is  a  very  slow  process,  social  evolution 
is  an  exceedigly  rapid  one,  so  that  the  phases  of  the  latter  are 
increasingly  independent  of  the  former's  control.     Surely  this  is 
a  moderate  statement  of  the  truth  which  is  populariy  exaggerated 
to  read,  that  among  mankind  the  struggle  for  existence  has  wholly 
given  place  to  the  struggle  for  happiness. 

An  adequate  recognition  of  these  facts  would,  indeed,  only 
serve  to  strengthen  the  central  doctrines  of  the  pragmatist,  for 
it  would  enable  them  to  be  stated  in  more  consistently  psycho- 
logical terms.  In. his  wholesome  desire  to  explain  consciousness 
in  the  light  of  its  relations  to  the  organism  as  a  whole,  he  has 
lost  sight  of  the  great  extent  to  which  all  other  functions  have 
become  subordinated  to  this  one.  Consciousness  is  not  an  end 
in  itself?  As  neariy  as  possible  it  is,  for  it  contains  within  itself 
the  leading  principle  of  its  own  development.  It  is  consciously 
approved  satisfactoriness  of  the  conduct  to  which  an  idea  prompts 
that  determines  its  stability,  and  it  is  conscious  dissatisfaction 
that  entails  its  modification.  The  dictum  of  the  comparative 
psychologist,  of  which  pragmatism  has  made  so  much, — that  it 
is  only  upon  the  failure  of  habitual  adjustment  that  conscious- 


ness interferes,  and  that  when  a  readjustment  is  accomplished 
it  retires,— has  real  significance  only  for  the  most  rudimentary 
conscious  processes.  As  applied  to  more  complex  processes,  it  is 
a  mere  tautology;  for,  in  that  case,  adjustment  and  failure  of 
adjustment  no  longer  refer  to  the  conditions  of  survival,  but  to 
the  expression  of  volitional  tendencies  whose  relation  to  survival 
is  practically  undetermined. 

A  further  advantage  to  pragmatism  is  contained  in  the  fact 
that  it  now  becomes  feasible  to  include  thought-activities  as  such 
under  the  term  'behavior'  or  'conduct.'     So  long  as  conduct  was 
conceived  to  be  essentially  determined  by  its  relation  to  survival, 
such  inclusion  was  not  practicable;  since  it  is  not  clear  how  in 
general  a  conscious  process  as  such,  or  the  neural  process  corre- 
lated therewith,  is  capable  of  modifying  the  situation  of  an  organ- 
ism in  such  a  way  as  to  improve  its  chances  of  survival.     A  mere 
thought  cannot  ward  off  a  blow  or  repair  expended  energies. 
And  so,  if  a  thought  was  to  be  regarded  as  conduct,  it  was  neces- 
sarily  in  a  modified  and  secondary  sense,  namely  as  a  contribut- 
ing cause  to  conduct  proper,  i.  e.,  directed  physical  movements. 
Mental  procedure  must  then  be  interpreted  as  a  succession  of 
attitudes,  of  preparations  for  action— like  the  crouch  of  the  cat 
making  ready  to  spring.     Unfortunately,  scienrific  procedure  has 
commonly  no  conscious  reference  to  overt  action ;  and  when  its 
significance  for  the  guidance  of  such  action  is  made  clear,  the 
relarion  is  not  to  any  pardcular  situation  or  any  particular  re- 
sponse.    But  when  conduct  is  defined  in  relation  to  a  state  of 
consciousness,  such  as  satisfaction,  the  difficulty  no  longer  re- 
mains.    It  is  only  necessary  that  a  specific  interest  be  taken  in 
the  issue  of  the  thought-activity  as  such— the  solution  of  a  mathe- 
matical problem,  for  example— apart  from  any  expected  effect 
*  upon  later  physical  movements;  and  this  is  so  far  from  being 
inconceivable,  that  it  is  a  familiar  daily  experience. 

But  is  it  correct  to  say  that  happiness,  as  such,  is  the  deter- 
minant of  intellectual  progress  and  the  ultimate  term  to  which  the 


I40 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


EXAMINATION   OF   THE   PRINCIPLES 


141 


l! 


If; 


\i 


distinctions  of  truth  and  error  are  reducible?  Or  ought  a  specific 
type  of  satisfaction  to  be  substituted  for  happiness,  or  satisfaction 
in  general?  The  question  is,  we  think,  of  far-reaching  impor- 
tance; and  before  attempting  a  direct  answer  we  shall  try  to 
make  its  bearing  clear  by  means  of  a  familiar  parallel. 

The  question  is  closely  analogous  to  that  which  divided  the 
utilitarians  and  the  moral-sense  ethicists  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury. Are  the  sentiments  of  moral  approbation  and  disappro- 
bation, on  the  one  hand,  and  that  of  benevolence,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  be  explained  as  consequences  of  the  anticipation  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  produced  by  a  psychical  mechanism  which 
merely  combines  and  separates  the  given  elements  of  human 
nature?  Or  are  these  sentiments  qualitatively  peculiar,  native 
endowments  of  humanity  for  which  no  derivation  is  to  be  found? 
The  alternative  consequences  for  the  development  of  the  science 
soon  became  apparent.  The  utilitarians,  by  reason  of  the  very 
simplicity  of  their  primary  assumptions,  were  committed  to  an 
artificial  theory,  which  did  scant  justice  to  their  subject.  It  was 
easy  for  the  moral-sense  theory  to  be  far  more  appreciative,  for 
all  difficulties  of  interpretation  were  solved  for  it  in  advance. 
But  for  the  same  reason  it  was  barren — the  future  was  closed 
against  it.  The  signal  importance  of  the  application  of  evolu- 
tionary methods  to  ethics  during  the  last  half-century  is  this, 
that  it  has  united  the  advantages  of  the  two  older  schools.  It 
has  permitted  the  recognition  of  the  distinctive  qualitative  char- 
acter of  moral  values,  while  at  the  same  time  expediting  the  more 
thorough  investigation  of  the  fundamental  relations  subsisting 
between  these  and  other  human  values. 

It  is  a  position  analogous  to  this  last,  that  we  should  expect 
to  see  taken  by  the  pragmatists.  But  they  have  not  taken  it. 
It  is  the  dead  level  of  utilitarianism  that  they  have  sought. 
This  is  the  more  surprising,  since  all  the  materials  for  a  synthetic 
view  would  seem  to  be  present  to  their  hand.  Mr.  James,  in 
particular,  recognizes  the  existence  of  a  'logical  sense/  that  is 
to  say,  a  specific  feeling  of  consistency.     But  of  the  theoretical 


possibilities  lurking  in  such  an  assumption,  he  appears  to  take 

very  little  account. 

The  issue  is  formulated  by  Mr.  James  with  great  distinctness. 
"The  opponent  here  will  ask:  'Has  not  the  knowing  of  truth 
any  substantive  value  on  its  own  account,  apart  from  the  col- 
lateral advantages  it  may  bring?     And  if  you  allow  the  theoretic 
satisfactions  to  exist  at  all,  do  they  not  crowd  the  collateral 
satisfactions  out  of  house  and  home,  and  must  not  pragmatism 
go  into  bankruptcy,  if  she  admits  them  at  all?'  "     The  essential 
portion  of  his  answer  (to  which  far  too  little  attention  appears 
to  have  been  given)  is  as  follows:  "At  life's  origin  any  present 
perception  may  have  been  'true' — if  such  a  word  could  then  be 
applicable.     Later,  when  reactions  became  organized,  the  re- 
actions became  'true'  whenever  expectation  was  fulfilled  by  them. 
Otherwise  they  were  'false'  or  'mistaken'  reactions.     But  the 
same  class  of  objects  needs  the  same  kind  of  reaction,  so  the 
impulse  to  react  consistently  must  gradually  have  been  estab- 
lished, and  a  disappointment  felt  whenever  the  results  frustrated 
expectation.     Here  is  a  perfectly  plausible  germ  for  all  our  higher 
consistencies.     Nowadays,  if  an  object  claims  from  us  a  reaction 
of  the  kind  habitually  accorded  only  to  the  opposite  class  of 
objects,  our  mental  machinery  refuses  to  run  smoothly.      The 
situation    is    intellectually  unsatisfactory.  .  .  .     In  some  men 
theory  is  a  passion,  just  as  music  is  in  others.     The  form  of  inner 
consistency  is  pursued  far  beyond  the  line  at  which  collateral 
profits  stop.  .  .  .     Too  often  the  results,  glowing  with  'truth'  for 
the  inventors,  seem  pathetically  personal  and  artificial  to  by- 
standers.    Which  is  as  much  as  to  say  that  the  purely  theoretic 
criterion  of  truth  can  leave  us  in  the  lurch  as  easily  as  any  other 

criterion."^ 

Are  we  not  justified  in  the  remark,  that  this  explanation  is 
typically  utilitarian?  All  of  the  old  machinery  is  at  work.  Cer- 
tain experiences  are  viewed  with  an  immediate  pleasure,  that  is 

^The  Meaning  of  Truth,  pp.  96  ff.     The  whole  passage  is  too  long  for  quotation, 
but  the  omitted  portions  are  almost  equally  interesting  and  significant. 


/ 


I40 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


distinctions  of  truth  and  error  are  reducible?  Or  ought  a  specific 
type  of  satisfaction  to  be  substituted  for  happiness,  or  satisfaction 
in  general?  The  question  is,  we  think,  of  far-reaching  impor- 
tance; and  before  attempting  a  direct  answer  we  shall  try  to 
make  its  bearing  clear  by  means  of  a  familiar  parallel. 

The  question  is  closely  analogous  to  that  which  divided  the 
utilitarians  and  the  moral-sense  ethicists  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury. Are  the  sentiments  of  moral  approbation  and  disappro- 
bation, on  the  one  hand,  and  that  of  benevolence,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  be  explained  as  consequences  of  the  anticipation  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  produced  by  a  psychical  mechanism  which 
merely  combines  and  separates  the  given  elements  of  human 
nature?  Or  are  these  sentiments  qualitatively  peculiar,  native 
endowments  of  humanity  for  which  no  derivation  is  to  be  found? 
The  alternative  consequences  for  the  development  of  the  science 
soon  became  apparent.  The  utilitarians,  by  reason  of  the  very 
simplicity  of  their  primary  assumptions,  were  committed  to  an 
artificial  theory,  which  did  scant  justice  to  their  subject.  It  was 
easy  for  the  moral-sense  theory  to  be  far  more  appreciative,  for 
all  difficulties  of  interpretation  were  solved  for  it  in  advance. 
But  for  the  same  reason  it  was  barren — the  future  was  closed 
against  it.  The  signal  importance  of  the  application  of  evolu- 
tionary methods  to  ethics  during  the  last  half-century  is  this, 
that  it  has  united  the  advantages  of  the  two  older  schools.  It 
has  permitted  the  recognition  of  the  distinctivequalitative  char- 
acter of  moral  values,  while  at  the  same  time  expediting  the  more 
thorough  investigation  of  the  fundamental  relations  subsisting 
between  these  and  other  human  values. 

It  is  a  position  analogous  to  this  last,  that  we  should  expect 
to  see  taken  by  the  pragmatists.  But  they  have  not  taken  it. 
It  is  the  dead  level  of  utilitarianism  that  they  have  sought. 
This  is  the  more  surprising,  since  all  the  materials  for  a  synthetic 
view  would  seem  to  be  present  to  their  hand.  Mr.  James,  in 
particular,  recognizes  the  existence  of  a  'logical  sense,*  that  is 
to  say,  a  specific  feeling  of  consistency.     But  of  the  theoretical 


EXAMINATION   OF   THE   PRINCIPLES 


141 


possibilities  lurking  in  such  an  assumption,  he  appears  to  take 

very  little  account.  / 

The  issue  is  formulated  by  Mr.  James  with  great  distinctness.  ^ 
'The  opponent  here  will  ask:  'Has  not  the  knowing  of  truth 
any  substantive  value  on  its  own  account,  apart  from  the  col- 
lateral advantages  it  may  bring?    And  if  you  allow  the  theoretic 
satisfactions  to  exist  at  all,  do  they  not  crowd  the  collateral 
satisfactions  out  of  house  and  home,  and  must  not  pragmatism 
go  into  bankruptcy,  if  she  admits  them  at  all?'  "     The  essential 
portion  of  his  answer  (to  which  far  too  little  attention  appears 
to  have  been  given)  is  as  follows:  "At  life's  origin  any  present 
perception  may  have  been  'true'— if  such  a  word  could  then  be 
applicable.     Later,  when  reactions  became  organized,  the  re- 
actions became  'true'  whenever  expectation  was  fulfilled  by  them. 
Otherwise  they  were  'false'  or  'mistaken'  reactions.     But  the 
same  class  of  objects  needs  the  same  kind  of  reaction,  so  the 
impulse  to  react  consistently  must  gradually  have  been  estab- 
lished, and  a  disappointment  felt  whenever  the  results  frustrated 
expectation.     Here  is  a  perfectly  plausible  germ  for  all  our  higher 
consistencies.     Nowadays,  if  an  object  claims  from  us  a  reaction 
of  the  kind  habitually  accorded  only  to  the  opposite  class  of 
objects,  our  mental  machinery  refuses  to  run  smoothly.      The 
situation    is   intellectually  unsatisfactory.  ...     In  some  men 
theory  is  a  passion,  just  as  music  is  in  others.     The  form  of  inner 
consistency  is  pursued  far  beyond  the  line  at  which  collateral 
profits  stop.  .  .  .     Too  often  the  results,  glowing  with  'truth'  for 
the  inventors,  seem  pathetically  personal  and  artificial  to  by- 
standers.    Which  is  as  much  as  to  say  that  the  purely  theoretic 
criterion  of  truth  can  leave  us  in  the  lurch  as  easily  as  any  other 

criterion."^ 

Are  we  not  justified  in  the  remark,  that  this  explanation  is 
typically  utilitarian?  All  of  the  old  machinery  is  at  work.  Cer- 
tain experiences  are  viewed  with  an  immediate  pleasure,  that  is 

^The  Meaning  of  Truth,  pp.  96  ff.     The  whole  passage  is  too  long  for  quotation, 
but  the  omitted  portions  are  almost  equally  interesting  and  significant. 


142 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


EXAMINATION   OF   THE   PRINCIPLES 


143 


I  < 


to  say,  desired  as  ultimately  good.  The  necessary  or  convenient 
means  of  obtaining  them  are  then  desired  for  their  sake.  Promi- 
nent among  these  means  is  the  appropriate  conduct.  Conduct 
is  generally  more  efficient  when  it  is  consistent ;  hence  consistency 
comes  to  be  desired  as  a  means  to  efficiency.  And  then,  as  in 
the  case  of  any  other  means  to  an  end,  the  end  drops  out  of 
consciousness,  and  the  means  is  desired  for  its  own  sake.^  It  is 
particularly  to  be  noted,  that  by  this  last  step  it  is  not  meant 
that  the  criterion  of  consistency  becomes  independently  sufficient 
to  establish  truth.  Intellectual  interests  are  simply  a  new  class 
of  interests  to  be  provided  for — normally  bound  up  very  closely 
with  the  rest,  it  is  true.  Intellectual  values  are  simply  one  class 
among  others,  varying  greatly  in  importance  from  man  to  man. 
The  criterion  of  consistency,  if  pushed  to  extremes,  is  as  likely 
to  lead  to  error  as  any  other. 

Once  again,  therefore,  we  find  the  emergence  of  a  new  end,  or 
controlling  resultant,  evaluated  in  terms  of  a  previously  existing 
end— in  this  case,  the  total  satisfaction  resulting  from  each  par- 
ticular voluntary  act.  Here  also  the  assumption  appears  to  us 
to  be  unwarranted. 

When  we  examine  the  relation  in  which  a  belief  stands  to  a 
particular  course  of  conduct  dictated  by  it,  it  is  obvious  that  this 
relation  has  more  than  one  side.  The  truth  of  the  belief  tends, 
in  general,  to  ensure  the  success  of  the  conduct,  and  the  success 
of  the  conduct  tends,  in  general,^  to  confirm  the  truth  of  the 

iWe  are  speaking  here  of  a  similarity  of  scientific  standpoint  and  method.  The 
similarity  of  results  is  nowhere  more  strikingly  exhibited  than  in  the  following 
extract,  though  similar  quotations  might  be  multiplied  almost  indefinitely:  "Sat- 
isfactoriness  has  to  be  measured  by  a  multitude  of  standards,  of  which  some,  for 
aught  we  know,  may  fail  in  any  given  case;  and  what  is  more  satisfactory  than 
any  alternative  in  sight,  may  to  the  end  be  a  sum  of  pluses  and  minuses,  concerning 
which  we  can  only  trust  that  by  ulterior  corrections  and  improvements  a  maximum 
of  the  one  and  a  minimum  of  the  other  may  some  day  be  approached."  (Ibid, 
p.  56.)     This  is  what  we  have  alluded  to  as  the  dead  level  of  utilitarian  theory. 

m  knowledge  were  perfect,  it  would,  no  doubt,  suffice  to  guarantee  the  success 
of  every  particular  endeavor — in  the  hopeless  case  we  would  tamely  submit. 
But  such  knowledge  as  we  have  cannot  do  this.  There  is  always  a  margin  of  un- 
controllable variation.     Contrariwise,  the  particular  non-fulfilment  of  expectation 


belief.  In  the  long  run,  true  belief  is  an  indispensable  and  most 
potent  condition  of  happiness,  and  it  would  be  a  careless  view 
of  the  thought-function  that  would  overlook  this  fact.  But  with 
any  particular  belief  the  case  may  be  very  different.  The  effect 
of  a  belief  may  easily  be  to  plunge  a  man  into  despair;  and  it 
then  finds  its  confirmation  as  aptly  in  the  catastrophe  that  fol- 
lows as  the  most  ardent  hope  could  find  it  in  the  most  complete 
success.  In  either  case,  the  total  satisfaction  of  the  agent  is 
irrevelant,  so  far  as  the  truth  of  his  belief  is  concerned.  The 
fulfillment  of  expectation,  which  constitutes  verification,  owes 
nothing  of  its  logical  significance  to  the  happiness  or  misery  of 
the  conscious  agent. 

In  the  type  of  conduct  by  which  human  knowledge  is  most 
efficiently  furthered — namely,  the  scientific  experiment — the  only 
interest  felt  to  be  at  stake  is  the  confirmation  or  rejection  of  a 
theory.  The  "collateral  profits"  to  be  expected  are  often  prac- 
tically nil.  It  is  true,  that  the  general  result  of  successful  scien- 
tific endeavor  is  an  immense  enlargement  of  the  means  of  human 
happiness.  Bacon  was  surely  not  in  the  wrong  when  he  de- 
clared that  fruitfulness  in  useful  inventions  is  a  fair  test  of  the 
healthful  condition  of  the  sciences.  But  that  does  not  alter  the 
character  of  the  specific  inquiry.  Its  outcome  does  not  wait 
for  its  truth  upon  the  benefits  derived  from  any  particular  appli- 

cation. 

We  thus  find  that  the  relation  between  the  love  of  truth  and 
the  totality  of  our  interests  is  quite  similar  to  that  between 
happiness  and  survival.  While  very  largely  in  mutual  accord, 
truth  and  happiness  are  nevertheless  distinct  ends,  even  where 
they  appear  to  coincide.  From  the  point  of  view  of  utility,  the 
adequacy  of  a  concept  is  on  a  par  with  the  soundness  of  a  limb. 
From  the  point  of  view  of  truth,  the  success  of  one  well-planned  ef- 

is  not  a  perfect  negative  criterion  of  truth.  The  repeated  resurrection  of  theories 
long  thought  dead  and  buried  is  striking  proof  of  this.  All  our  formulae,  as  applied 
in  action,  contain  an  'in  so  far  as*  or  an  'other  things  being  equal.'  It  is  generally 
possible  to  say,  with  the  bungling  professor  of  chemistry:  "Gentlemen,  the  experi- 
ment has  failed;  but  the  principle  still  holds  true."  The  very  imperfection  of 
cience  gives  it  a  certain  independence  of  the  individual  datum. 


144 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


EXAMINATION   OF   THE   PRINCIPLES 


145 


■ « 


fort  is  on  a  par  with  the  expected,  but  unavoidable  failure  of  an- 
other. Moreover  while  it  is  true  that  within  wide  limits  the  course 
of  scientific  progress  is  determined  by  all  manner  of  human  inter- 
ests, yet  in  detail  it  is  the  specific  interest  in  truth  that  is  of  deter- 
mining importance.  The  statement,  that  the  true  is  that  which, 
now  and  in  the  long  run,  is  the  expedient  in  thinking,  is  doubtless 
correct  of  truth  in  general,  but  it  may  be  absolutely  false  as 
applied  to  any  particular  truth.  That  may  amount  simply  to 
an  increase  of  misery.^ 

A  second  ground  of  complaint  which  we  find  against  the  prag- 
matists  is  that  in  their  inductive  study  of  the  meaning  of  truth — 
proceeding,  it  will  be  remembered,  by  an  analysis  of  the  process 
of  change  of  belief— they  deliberately  ignore  a  distinction,  which 
has  existed  from  the  earliest  recorded  times,  between  warranted 
and  unwarranted  change  of  belief.  They  deliberately  ignore  it, 
apparently  because  they  believe  that  to  give  it  recognition  would 
unduly  prejudice  in  advance  the  results  of  their  investigation. 
Pragmatism  stands,  above  all  else,  for  open-mindedness  and  can- 
dor, and  wishes  to  be,  as  far  as  possible,  unhampered  by  tra- 
ditional canons  of  truth.  We  believe  that  in  this  matter  its 
apostles  have  overreached  themselves. 

The  following  sentences  from  Pragmatism  will  sufficiently  illus- 
trate our  meaning.  "Of  whatever  temperament  a  professional 
philosopher  is,  he  tries,  when  philosophizing,  to  sink  the  fact 
of  his  temperament.  Temperament  is  no  conventionally  recog- 
nized reason,  so  he  urges  impersonal  reasons  only  for  his  con- 
clusions. Yet  his  temperament  really  gives  him  a  stronger  bias 
than  any  of  his  more  strictly  objective  premises.  It  loads  the 
evidence  for  him  one  way  or  the  other,  making  for  a  more  senti- 
mental or  a  more  hard-hearted  view  of  the  universe,  just  as 

nt  is  fair  to  note  that  Professor  Dewey  has  protested  against  the  identification 
of  his  own  view  with  the  one  here  criticized.  "I  have  never  identified  any  satis- 
faction with  the  truth  of  an  idea,  save  that  satisfaction  which  arises  when  the  idea 
as  working  hypothesis  or  tentative  method  is  applied  to  prior  existences  in  such  a 
way  as  to  fulfill  what  it  intends."  Journal  of  Philosophy,  Psychology  and  Scientific 
Methods,  Vol.  V,  p.  94. 


this  fact  or  that  principle  would.  He  trusts  his  temperament, 
.  .  .  Yet  in  the  forum  he  can  make  no  claim,  on  the  bare  ground 
of  his  temperament,  to  superior  discernment  or  authority.  There 
arises  thus  a  certain  insincerity  in  our  philosophic  discussions: 
the  potentest  of  all  our  premises  is  never  mentioned"  (pp.  7  ff.). 
This  account  appears  to  be  an  understatement,  or  a  misstate- 
ment, of  the  facts  in  several  important  respects. 

1.  It  is  not  simply  the  professional  philosopher,  but  the  scien- 
tist of  every  shade,  that  attempts  to  eliminate,  as  far  as  possible, 
the  temperamental  factor  from  his  results.  Mathematician, 
physicist,  biologist,  sociologist— if  this  is  a  conspiracy,  they  are 

all  in  it. 

2.  The  restriction  is  not  due  to  professionalism.  If  it  be  a 
piece  of  scientific  tradition,  at  any  rate  it  does  not  belong  to  the 
bureaucracy  of  science.  The  free  lance  is  as  much  bound  by  it 
as  the  member  of  six  academies. 

3.  The  restriction  does  not  apply  simply  to  temperament,  but  to 
every  other  peculiarity  that  can  affect  the  general  verifiability  of 
the  results.  This  does  not  mean  that  a  perfect  elimination  of 
the  individual  factor  is  possible.  But  it  means  that  no  effort  is 
spared  to  carry  the  elimination  as  far  as  possible.  The  'personal 
equation,'  by  which  astronomical  observations  are  corrected,  is 
typical  of  such  effort.  Even  a  claim  to  exclusive  sources  of 
information,  except  as  it  may  be  substantiated  by  rigid  cross- 
questioning,  is  of  little  avail  to  the  man  of  science,  though  appro- 
priate enough  in  the  prophet.  When  an  unconfirmed  observation 
is  accepted  as  correct,  it  is  only  on  the  basis  of  a  critical  examina- 
tion of  the  general  scientific  record  of  the  observer;  and  even 
then  it  is  usually  regarded  with  some  degree  of  suspicion.  A 
claim  to  peculiar  faculties  of  intelligence— such  as  the  aesthetic 
world-view  of  the  German  romanticists — may  inspire  enthusiasm 
in  a  religious  or  philosophical  sect,  but  the  progress  of  science 
invariably  discredits  it. 

4.  That  the  philosopher— or  the  scientist— trusts  his  tempera- 
ment, is  ambiguous  and  only  half  true.     He  distrusts  it  in  general, 

II 


146 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


n 


just  because  he  knows  that  he  is  in  danger  of  trusting  it  in  the 
particular  instance.  It  is  a  bias  to  be  allowed  for,  as  far  as 
possible.  We  distrust  our  optimism,  we  distrust  our  partisan- 
ship, we  distrust  our  love  of  simplicity;  otherwise  we  are  less 
competent  as  sociologists,  as  historians,  or  as  physicists.  Pre- 
cisely the  same  is  true  of  other  sources  of  bias. 

5.  Where  individual  precautions  are  insufficient  to  eliminate 
the  effects  of  bias,  public  discussion  and  criticism  are  expected 
to  carry  the  process  further.  As  Mr.  Titchener  has  recently  said, 
— "Every  one  of  us  has  his  natural  inclinations  to  overcome; 
and  if  I  lean  towards  sensationalism,  why,  the  imageless  minds, 
the  minds  of  the  extreme  verbal  type,  lean  just  as  strongly  in 
the  opposite  direction.  .  .  .  Well!  it  is  from  the  clash  of  these 
individual  psychologies  that  a  generalized  psychology  must 
arise.'*  ^  Mr.  James  commits  a  double  oversight  when  he  writes : 
"The  potentest  of  all  our  premises  is  never  mentioned."  It  is 
true  that  it  is  not  mentioned  by  the  advocate,  except  where  he 
candidly  distrusts  himself;  but  this  is  because  he  believes  he  has 
sufficiently  discounted  it.  And  there  is  little  risk  of  its  not  being 
mentioned  by  the  other  man. 

6.  The  distrust  of  individual  bias,  in  oneself  or  others,  is  not  a 
recent  phenomenon.  It  extends  back  to  the  beginnings  of  self- 
conscious  scientific  endeavor.  Among  the  fragments  of  Hera- 
clituswefind:  "Understanding  is  common  to  all.  .  .  .  And  though 
reason  is  common,  most  people  live  as  though  they  had  an  under- 
standing peculiar  to  themselves.  .  .  .  They  that  are  awake  have 
one  world  in  common,  but  of  the  sleeping  each  turns  aside  into  a 
world  of  his  own.  ...  It  is  not  meet  to  act  and  speak  like  men 
asleep"  (B.  91,  92,  94,  93;  Fairbanks  tr.).  On  the  other  hand, 
it  must  be  confessed,  this  sentiment  is  found  to  be  more  widely 
spread  and  more  powerful,  as  the  advancement  of  science  pro- 
ceeds. Where  science  is  so  far  undeveloped  as  to  be  closely 
bound  up  with  religious  belief,  or  otherwise  subject  to  religious 
influence,  trust  in  one's  temperament  is  proportionately  common. 

^Experimental  Psychology  of  the  Thought-Processes,  p.  22. 


EXAMINATION   OF  THE   PRINCIPLES 


147 


7.  We  believe,  with  Mr.  James,  that  in  no  department  of 
science  is  the  complete  elimination  of  the  individual  factor  prob- 
able ;  but  this  does  not  affect  the  question  whether  such  elimina- 
tion, so  far  as*  it  is  possible,  is  a  distinct  desideratum.     At  the 
same  time  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  a  vast  body  of  knowledge 
exists,  in  which  the  process  has  gone  so  far  that  the  individual 
factor  is  very  difficult  to  detect;  nay,  that  there  are  fields  in 
which  we  are  not  in  a  position  to  demonstrate  it  in  any  detail, 
and  can  at  most  only  infer  its  existence  from  very  general  con- 
siderations.    This  is  notably  the  case  with  the  mathematical 
sciences,  which  are,  and  have  been,  almost  universally  accepted 
as  absolute  truth.     But,  aside  from  these  sciences,  the  desidera- 
tum of  universal  acceptability  has  been  progressively  realized. 
To  be  sure,  as  science  advances,  more  and  more  questions  are 
raised  that  can  as  yet  be  answered  only  as  temperament  suggests; 
and  there  are  also  questions  which  have  vexed  men  for  ages,  and 
which,  so  far  as  we  are  aware,  have  never  been  put  in  the  way  of  a 
universally  acceptable  solution.     But  it  remains  true  that  in- 
creasing numbers  of  problems,  and  even  whole  realms  of  specu- 
lation, where  tastes  and  whims  formerly  reigned  supreme — 
philology,  for  example — have  been  brought  into  an  orderly  sub- 
jection to  principles  of  generally  recognized  cogency. 

It  appears  to  us  that  these  considerations  are  sufficient  to 
show  that  the  lack  of  recognition  of  temperament  as  an  evidence 
of  philosophical  truth  is  not  due  to  any  mere  prejudice.  The 
cause  certainly  lies  deeper.  As  we  have  previously  remarked, 
a  larger  induction  with  respect  to  the  conditions  of  belief,  one 
which  embraced,  not  simply  the  causes  which  might  at  any  time 
produce  belief,  but  those  which  were  confirmed  by  reflective 
criticism,  would  have  led  to  a  more  trustworthy  theory  of  truth. 
There  is  something  admirably  bold  in  the  philosophical  enterprise 
which  is  committed  to  "no  rigid  canons  of  what  shall  count  as 
proof."  But  the  actual  procedure  of  the  pragmatist  makes  the 
distinction  between  proof  and  sophistry,  between  argument  and 
persuasion,  not  simply  uncertain  but  altogether  illusory. 


s 


I  > 


148 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


Pragmatism  is  notable  for  the  first  unreserved  adoption  of  the 
evolutionary  standpoint  and  method  in  logical  research.  Its  ad- 
vocates have  been  most  bitterly  reproached  by  conservative 
thinkers  for  admitting  into  philosophy  a  developing  truth.  We 
believe,  however,  that  a  more  valid  criticism  might  be  expressed 
in  precisely  opposite  terms.  The  pragmatists  hold  that  truths 
have  developed :  by  which  they  mean  no  more  than  that  doctrines 
which  in  former  times  were  entitled  to  the  most  complete  possible 
credence  have  given  way  to  others  which  we  now  know  to  be 
more  adequate.  But  of  truth  itself  they  have  an  altogether 
static  theory,  a  theory  couched  in  a  definition  which  applies 
equally  to  the  crudest  anticipation  of  the  brute  and  to  the  subtlest 
abstraction  of  the  scientist — nay,  even  to  absolute  truth,  if  such 
there  should  ever  be.^  That  the  ascription  of  truth  should  mean 
more  at  one  level  of  human  experience  than  at  another — that 
there  should  been  have  a  development  of  the  species  of  truth  of 
which  judgment  is  capable^ — they  have  apparently  not  contem- 
plated as  a  real  possibility.  In  short,  our  opposition  to  the 
pragmatists,  like  their  own  to  Herbert  Spencer,  is  due  to  the 
fact  that  they  have  not  carried  their  evolutionism  far  enough — 
that  the  leaven  of  the  old  dogmatism  still  works  in  them. 

And  yet  all  the  materials  for  an  evolutionary  conception  were 
present  to  their  hand ;  and  in  one  way  or  another  some  account 
is  taken  of  them — with  the  result  of  leaving  the  subject  in  an 
almost  inextricable  confusion.  Thus,  according  to  Pragmatism, 
the  truth  of  an  idea  is  experienced  as  its  'agreement'  with  'reality' ; 
'reality'  consisting  of  (i)  the  things  and  relations  of  common 
sense,  (2)  relations  between  purely  mental  ideas,  and  (3)  other 
accepted  truths;  while  'agreement'  is  agreeable  leading-on  from 
the  idea  in  question  to  other  parts  of  experience.  Now,  in  the 
first  place,  this  agreeable  leading  is  diversely  described,  some- 
times as  pleasant  on  its  own  account  by  reason  of  a  peculiar 
human  susceptibility  to  the  harmoniousness  of  experiences — this 

*Cf.  James,  The  Meaning  of  Truth,  pp.  182-3. 

2The  suggestion  might  have  come  from  Hegel,  had  he  been  more  sympathetically 
jead. 


EXAMINATION   OF  THE   PRINCIPLES 


149 


is  the  original  statement  (p.  202),  but  it  is  almost  immediately 
lost  sight  of — and  sometimes  as  pleasant  by  reason  of  the  char- 
acter of  the  object  to  which  it  leads.    That  is  to  say,  the  pleasant- 
ness sometimes  attaches  to  the  process,  sometimes  to  the  result, 
without  our  being  informed  whether  either  or  both  modes  are 
necessary  to  truth.     In  the  former  case,  moreover,  in  addition 
to  the  specific  pleasantness  above  mentioned,  an  appeal  to  indi- 
vidual or  conventional  taste  may  be  a  factor — the  taste  for 
simplicity,  for  example.     In  the  second  place,  the  knowledge  of 
the  second  class  of  realities  (the  relations  between  purely  mental 
ideas)  is  altogether  independent  of  the  eventualities  of  experience. 
Ideas  in  agreement  with  such  realities  are  at  once  obtained  by 
inspection,  and  are  not  subject  to  confirmation  or  correction.^ 
If  the  results  of  conduct  which  they  in  part  control  are  unsatis- 
factory, the  fault  is  invariably  charged  elsewhere :  things  have 
been  incorrectly  subsumed.     This  anomaly  has  doubtless  struck 
every  reader;  but  we  know  not  if  it  has  been  generally  noticed 
that  the  whole  passage  might  have  been  transcribed  from  Locke 
or  Hume.2    A  similar  account  in  The  Principles  of  Psychology  is 
in  fact  declared  by  Mr.  James  simply  "to  make  a  little  more 
explicit  the  teachings  of  Locke's  fourth  book"  (p.  662).     The 
pragmatist  theory  of  truth  is  only  verbally  brought  into  connec- 
tion with  the  knowledge  of  the  relations  in  question.     Agreement 
is  said  to  be  still  "an  affair  of  leading";  but  nothing  of  the  sort 
is  made  out.     The  failure  of  pragmatism  is  concealed  by  a  bor- 
rowing from  the  old  dogmatism. 

We  believe  that  the  development  of  the  judgment  is  marked  by 
increasing  definiteness  and  increasing  universality,  that  is  to  say, 
by  the  greater  and  greater  delicacy  with  which  it  is  contradicted 
or  confirmed  by  experience,  and  by  its  gradual  transcendence 

iWe  recall  the  statement  in  Mr.  James's  Principles  of  Psychology:  "The  pure 
sciences  form  a  body  of  propositions  with  whose  genesis  experience  has  nothing  to 

do"  (p.  641). 

2Cf.  Pragmatism,  pp.  209-10  with  (e.  g.)  Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  Book  I, 
Part  III,  Section  i.  Hume,  to  be  sure,  instead  of  describing  the  terms  of  the 
relations  as  'purely  mental  ideas,*  enumerates  the  classes  of  relations  to  which 
the  account  applies. 


!l 


ISO 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


of  the  limits  of  the  particular  interests  and  the  particular  occasion 
which  have  called  it  forth.  In  what  follows  we  shall  devote  our 
attention  more  particularly  to  the  latter  aspect  of  the  develop- 
ment, without,  however,  wholly  disregarding  the  former. 

Let  us  note  at  the  outset  what  is  meant  by  the  relativity  of  the 
judgment  to  the  particular  occasion.  An  illustration  may  help 
us  here.  Suppose  that  upon  a  piece  of  paper  two  geometrical 
figures  are  drawn  with  considerable  care.  We  call  the  one  a 
circle  and  the  other  a  rectangle.  Yet  we  are  aware  that  a  micro- 
scope would  reveal  irregularities  of  curvature  in  the  first  figure 
and  inexactness  of  angles  in  the  second,  and  even  that  it  would 
taken  an  infinite  amount  of  correction  to  make  the  first  figure  a 
perfect  cricle  or  the  second  a  true  rectangle.  If  we  are  to  speak 
accurately  we  should  have  to  confess  that  the  one  figure  exempli- 
fied circularity  no  more  than  the  other;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  we  could  no  more  truly  refer  to  the  second  as  a  rectangle 
than  to  the  first.  But  we  could  conform  to  accuracy  in  speaking, 
only  on  the  penalty  of  speaking  only  in  negatives.  If  the  concept 
of  the  circle  were  only  to  be  applied  with  mathematical  exactness, 
it  could  never  be  identified  with  any  concrete  phenomenon  at  all. 
What  determines  the  applicability  of  a  concept  in  any  particular 
case  may  vary  greatly  We  may  be  willing  to  accept  a  figure 
as  a  circle  only  when  the  most  accurate  measurements  obtainable 
fail  to  carry  the  correction  further,  and  when,  although  we  may 
on  general  principles  feel  sure  that  the  figure  must  deviate  from 
circularity,  we  are  unable  to  point  out  just  how  and  to  what  de- 
gree it  does  so  deviate.  In  the  vast  majority  of  cases,  however, 
the  degree  of  accuracy  which  we  demand  is  not  determined  by 
the  extreme  limit  of  the  finest  instrument  manufactured.  Gen- 
erally we  are  satisfied  with  what  looks  'round*  to  the  unassisted 
eye ;  and  often  we  do  not  stop  to  notice  even  palpable  irregulari- 
ties. 

What  makes  the  difference?  The  answer  is  obvious.  It  is 
the  exigency  of  the  occasion.  To  speak  of  the  inaccuracy  of  a 
given  judgment  as  negligible  implies  a  reference  to  an  end  that 


EXAMINATION   OF   THE   PRINCIPLES 


151 


is  to  be  served.  In  a  process  of  calculation  the  amount  of  in- 
accuracy which  we  can  tolerate  in  the  premises  depends  on  the 
degree  of  accuracy  which  is  required  in  the  results.  Thus  the 
captain  of  a  disabled  ship,  whose  sole  object  was  to  reach  shore, 
might  be  quite  content  with  the  accuracy  of  observations  which 
showed  his  position  within  a  fraction  of  a  degree,  provided  the 
nearest  land  were  a  large  island  to  the  westward,  extending  over 
several  degrees  of  latitude.  The  Arctic  explorer,  who  believed 
himself  to  be  near  the  pole,  would  find  such  rough  calculations  of 
his  position  to  be  absolutely  useless.  The  conclusion  which  the 
captain  would  wish  to  draw  would  be  merely  the  general  direction 
in  which  to  sail;  while  the  conclusion  desired  by  the  explorer 
must  be  the  exact  direction  in  which,  and  the  exact  distance  to 
which  he  must  change  his  position. 

But  though  error  may  be  negligible  is  it  not  still  error?     Is  not 
the  false  judgment,  which  is  near  enough  to  truth  for  practical 
purposes,  still  false?     Granted.     But  suppose  the  judgment  does 
not  pretend  to  exactness— ^hdit  then?    We  have  an  immense  num- 
ber of  common-sense  terms,  which  serve  our  purposes  excellently, 
but  which  are  not  to  be  rigidly  defined.     Is  a  child  of  two  a  hahy? 
Is  a  bachelor  of  thirty-five  still  young?     How  many  grains  make 
a  heap?    And  even  mathematical  terms  may  be  toned  down  by  a 
cloudy  modifier.     Is  it  true  or  false  that  the  earth  is  nearly  spheri- 
cal, or  that  San  Francisco  is  about  three  thousand  miles  from  New 
York?     The  answer  is  indeterminate,  unless  the  requirements  of 
the  particular  occasion  determine  it.     How  largely  our  judgments 
are  of  this  character  is  evidenced  by  the  polemical  success  of 
the  ancient  Megarian  eristic,  which  was  based  upon  the  principle 
that  all  our  judgments  are  similarly  indefinite.     Perhaps  they 
were  not  wholly  wrong  in  their  opinion. 

But  scientific  judgments  evidently  aim  at  a  validity  which  is 
higher  than  this,  and  that  is  why  terms  like  heap  and  baby  fail  to 
serve  their  turn  and  are  replaced  by  a  technical  vocabulary. 
The  ideal  is  a  truth  that  shall  remain  true  for  all  possible  purposes 
and  in  all  possible  situations.     But  this  ideal  is  assuredly  not 


I 


wi 


I.' 


152 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTIOxN 


attained  at  a  bound.  The  validity  of  scientific  laws  is  not  de- 
pendent, to  be  sure,  on  the  particular  concrete  use  to  which  we 
may  choose  to  put  them.  But  their  significance  and  truth  may 
still  be  conditioned  by  the  nature  of  the  results  which  we  expect 
in  general  to  derive  from  them.  On  what  grounds,  for  example, 
do  we  judge  the  validity  of  the  principle  of  classical  political 
economy,  that  men  seek  to  gratify  their  desires  by  the  least 
exertion?  Most  assuredly  we  should  not  judge  it  to  be  invalid, 
because  as  a  matter  of  fact  w^e  find  exceptions  to  it.  That  men 
often  rush  onward  in  their  pursuit  of  a  coveted  prize  without 
pausing  to  choose  the  shortest  way,  that  exertion  once  undergone 
as  a  necessary  means  to  some  desired  end  may  come  to  be  desired 
for  its  own  sake,  ar^  facts  which  may  very  well  be  regarded  as 
negligible  in  this  connection.  What  does  determine  the  validity 
of  the  principle  as  a  law  of  economics  is  its  general  serviceableness 
in  the  explanation  If  a  certain  class  of  human  actions,  namely, 
commercial  intercolirse.  How  serviceable  such  a  general  prin- 
ciple will  prove  to  be,  depends  very  largely  upon  the  degree  to 
which  the  science  has  at  any  given  time  carried  its  analysis  of 
the  particular  phenomena  with  which  it  deals.  As  a  science  pro- 
ceeds it  becomes  more  ambitious.  It  is  led  to  correct  its  general 
laws,  not  by  the  mere  finding  of  exceptions  to  them — for  the 
exceptions  as  such  might  be  treated  simply  as  the  operation  of  a 
counter-tendency — but  because  there  is  developed  a  more  ade- 
quate appreciation  of  the  particular  phenomena  which  the  law 
purports  to  correlate.  Laws  are  revised,  not  because  they  are 
:  false,  but  because  they  are  shallow.  This  may  very  well  be  seen 
in  the  recent  history  of  the  very  case  which  we  have  just  men- 
tioned, the  classical  abstraction  of  the  'economic  man.'  The 
truth  of  the  conception  of  the  'economic  man*  is  questioned 
today,  not  because  of  its  mere  abstractness,  but  rather  because 
it  is  too  rough  and  ready  an  affair  for  the  purposes  of  present-day 
economics.  A  more  careful  study  of  the  operations  of  a  market, 
a  finer  analysis  of  the  phenomena  of  supply  and  demand,  a 
deeper  insight  into  the  nature  of  value,  due  in  part  to  investiga- 


EXAMINATION   OF   THE   PRINCIPLES 


153 


tions  in  allied  sciences— all  these  are  tending  so  to  transform  our 
ideas  of  the  functions  performed  by  the  'economic  man,*  that 
the  classical  description  of  him  is  no  longer  appropriate. 

What  we  find  to  be  true  of  this  principle  of  economics  applies 
in  some  measure,  we  believe,  to  all  general  laws.    The  validity 
of  a  universal  principle  is  not  a  matter  of  its  own  individual 
adequacy  as  a  description  of  reality;  nor,  again,  is  its  validity 
elative  to  the  whole  existing  body  of  human  knowledge  (if, 
indeed,  we  can  speak  of  such  a  thing).     It  may  correctly  enough 
be  said  that  the  validity  of  such  a  principle  depends  upon  its  . 
place  in  the  developing  structure  of  our  knowledge,  if  we  remem-  i 
ber  that  this  place  is  not  definitely  determined,  but  is  exceed  ngly  | 
variable.     A  law  is  not  judged  as  true  because  it  marks  the  limit  ' 
of  human  knowledge    and  because  we  are  not  able  to  correct 
any  given  formulation   of  it.     Its  truth  is  always  a  matter  of  I 
context.     It  is  valid  if  we  find  a  certain  harmony  between  the 
character  and  degree  of  its  abstractness  and  the  character  and 
definiteness  of  the  conclusions  in  view  of  which  it  is  asserted.        , 
A  process  of  reasoning  can  proceed  only  by  assuming  a  set  of 
premises,  partly  explicit  and  partly  implicit,  as  valid  for  the 
purposes  of  the  argument  in  hand.    Without  such  fixed  point  of 
departure,  no  coherent  reasoning  would  be  possible.     The  hypo- 
thetically  valid  premise  is  a  fulcrum  by  means  of  which  we  move 
the  unwie'dy  masses  of  fact  and  theory  with  which  our  thought 
is  to  cope.     But  to  make  an  assumption  with  regard  to  any  con- 
crete subject  is  to  make  an  abstraction;  it  is  to  single  out  certain 
characteristics,  and  to  regard  these  out  of  connection  with  others 
which  are  equally  constitutive  of  the  subject  in  other  relations. 
What  is  thus  singled  out  and  regarded  as  the  nature  of  the  subject 
is  what  is  relevant  to  our  purpose  in  thinking  of  the  subject  at  all. 
And  what  is  disregarded  as  negligible  is  what  is  irrelevant  and 
foreign  to  our  interest.     Hence  it  happens  that  for  the  purposes 
of  some  other  argument  it  may  be  possible  and  even  necessary 
to  assume  other  and  often  contradictory  propositions  concerning 
the  same  subject,  which  are  then  regarded  as  valid,  while  the 


:> 


154 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


Others  are  supposedly  invalid.  To  think  at  all  we  must  assume 
something  as  true;  and  what  we  assume  depends  upon  the  pur- 
pose of  our  thinking,  the  kind  of  conclusion  (though,  of  course, 
not  the  particular  conclusion)  to  which  we  intend  our  argument 

to  lead. 

Thus,  whether  our  assumed  premise  regarding  the  subject  'man' 
is  that  he  seeks  to  gratify  his  desires  by  the  least  exertion,  or  that 
he  possesses  a  strong  religious  sentiment,  depends  upon  the  nature 
of  our  interest.  True,  in  this  case  the  assumption  of  one  of  the 
propositions  as  valid  does  not  involve  the  denial  of  the  validity 
of  the  other  proposition.  For  the  purposes  of  the  economist, 
the  fact  that  man  is  religiously  inclined  is  simply  negligible — 
it  is  a  meaningless  statement  so  far  as  his  thought  is  concerned. 
It  is  easily  seen,  however,  that  the  incompatibility  between  pro- 
positions concerning  the  same  object,  used  as  premises  on  different 
occasions,  may  amount  to  explicit  contradiction.  A  remarkable 
instance  of  this  is  found  in  the  physics  and  biology  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  While  the  latter  had  yet  to  appeal  to  the 
intervention  of  creative  power  to  account  for  the  origin  of  species, 
the  former  had  long  excluded  all  intelligent  causes  from  the  expla- 
nation of  the  cosmos.  One  may  say  that  in  order  that  physics 
and  biology  might  exist,  what  was  true  in  the  one  had  to  be 
false  in  the  other.  And  although  this  particular  contradiction 
no  longer  exists  for  contemporary  science,  there  are  other  no  less 
serious  and  fundamental  difficulties  which  have  arisen  in  its  place. 
Thus,  of  the  alternative  hypotheses  of  psychophysical  parallelism 
and  interaction,  the  one  is  preposterous  from  the  point  of  view 
of  the  biologist,  who  can  only  regard  as  absurd  the  selection  and 
development,  on  so  great  a  scale,  of  a  function  in  no  wise  con- 
nected with  survival;  while  the  other  is  no  less  unacceptable 
to  the  modern  physicist.  To  be  sure,  such  a  contradiction  con- 
stitutes a  problem  for  science,  and  one  which  in  no  particular 
instance  could  be  branded  as  insoluble.  But  we  should  regard 
as  chimerical  the  hope  that  the  various  sciences  will  ever  be  so 
fully  coordinated  that  the  validity  of  their  several  laws  will  in- 
volve a  complete  mutual  compatibility. 


EXAMINATION   OF   THE   PRINCIPLES 


155 


But  what  is  thus  true  of  science  in  those  fundamentals  which 
mark  its  grand  divisions  is  true  throughout  of  the  unsystematic 
thinking  of  common  sense.  The  exigencies  of  life  force  us  con- 
stantly to  make  assumptions,  whose  inconsistency  becomes  mani- 
fest upon  the  most  cursory  examination,  but  which  we  have 
neither  occasion  nor  opportunity  to  harmonize.  We  must  act 
and  act  again,  and  the  purposes  of  our  conduct  determine  for  us 
what  is  essentially  true  of  the  surrounding  world.  The  scientific 
judgment,  whatever  may  be  its  faults,  is  better  than  this.  Its 
ideal  may  be  unattainable,  but  the  advance  in  that  direction  is 
none  the  less  real  and  important. 

The  highest  level  of  universality  yet  reached  is  that  of  the 
mathematical  sciences;  and,  indeed,  in  common  opinion  they 
are  altogether  removed  from  dependence  upon  the  particular. 
The  mathematical  stage  is  that  to  which  every  other  science  is 
supposed  to  look  forward  as  its  ultimate  perfection.  The  excep- 
tional position  of  mathematics  has  usually  led  philosophers  to 
derive  them  as  a  separate  sphere  of  knowledge,  from  a  separate 
faculty  of  the  mind.     Their  axioms  are  intuitions  of  reason. 

Now  in  the  case  of  mechanics,  the  patent  historical  fact  that 
its  laws  have  been  only  gradually  revealed  by  observation  and 
experiment,  suggests  very  forcibly  the  opposite  conclusion,  that 
the  certainty  and  absolute  exactness  of  these  laws  are  illusory— as 
illusory  as  the  primitive  notion,  which  persists  even  in  so  astute 
a  thinker  as  Epicurus,  that  all  things  tend  to  fall  downward  in 
parallel  lines.  Newton  and  the  modern  world  have  not  been 
more  confident  of  the  truth  of  his  laws  of  motion,  than  Epicurus 
and  the  greater  part  of  the  ancient  world  were  of  this  other 
principle — or  than  Aristotle  and  his  followers  were  of  the  division 
of  natural  bodies  into  celestial  and  terrestrial,  the  former  class 
moving  in  circles,  and  the  latter,  under  the  influence  of  gravity 
and  levity,  in  straight  lines.  Logically,  have  not  all  these  prin- 
ciples stood  upon  the  same  basis?  They  have  been  universally 
descriptive  of  the  known  facts  of  the  matter,  with  an  exactness 
(within  the  limits  of  observation)  surpassing  the  delicacy  of  any 


i*^ 


■M 


if 


I 


156 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


possible  correction.  To  be  sure,  our  present  observations  cover 
an  enormously  wider  range  and  are  likewise  vastly  more  delicate ; 
but  these  differences  are  differences  of  degree.  An  impartial 
survey  of  the  history  of  mechanics  certainly  disposes  one  to  the 
opinion,  that  its  laws,  as  compared  with  those  of  economics  (for 
example),  simply  represent  a  higher  level  of  universality  and 
exactitude — probably  not  the  ideal  level. 

Various  suggestions  have  been  made,  looking  toward  a  recon- 
ciliation of  the  intuitional  theory  with  the  facts  of  history.  Two 
important  types  of  suggestion  are  worthy  of  particular  notice. 
The  first  is  the  theory  of  Aristotle  and  Herbert  Spencer,  that  while 
the  attention  of  men  has  been  led  to  mechanical  principles  along 
the  devious  and  uncertain  paths  of  observation  and  induction, 
yet,  when  once  clearly  brought  to  mind,  the  principles  are  intui- 
tively self  evident.  Spencer's  version  is  modernized  by  the  intro- 
duction of  an  evolutionary  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the  intui- 
tion ;  and  it  is  reinforced  by  the  consideration  that  (in  the  case 
of  all  the  principles  for  which  he  claims  a  priori  certitude)  the 
supposed  experimental  proofs  invariably  take  for  granted  in  some 
connection  the  truth  of  the  principles  which  they  purport  to 
establish  universally.  This  last,  however,  amounts  only  to  show- 
ing that  the  principles  are  tested  as  working-hypotheses:  and 
the  theory  remains  eminently  plausible,  but  wholly  gratuitous. 
The  evolutionary  explanation  moreover,  brings  with  it  the  dis- 
quieting suggestion,  that  while  the  intuitively  known  principles 
may  be  self-evident,  in  the  sense  of  producing  a  quasi-instinctive 
conviction  of  their  truth,  they  need  not  for  that  reason  be  wholly 
removed  from  reflective  criticism.  The  adaptations  which  nature 
produces  are  commonly  no  better  than  they  need  be — with  a 
generous  margin  of  safety,  of  course.  If  Newton's  first  law  of 
motion  were  no  truer  than  the  law  that  falling  bodies  tend  to 
move  in  parallel  lines,  an  intuitive  acceptance  of  it  would  be  no 
less  explicable  for  that. 

The  other  type  of  mediating  theory — represented  most  ably 
by  Poincar6 — gives  up  the  hypothesis  of  an  intuition  of  mechani- 


EXAMINATION   OF   THE   PRINCIPLES 


IS7 


cal  laws,  and  regards  them  as  supported  only  by  approximate 
verifications;  nevertheless  it  maintains  that  they  are  universally 
and  exactly  true.  They  are  experimental  laws  exalted  by  con- 
vention into  absolute  principles;  and  they  owe  their  security  to 
the  fact  that  they  cannot  be  submitted  to  any  decisive  experi- 
mental test,  because  they  apply  perfectly  only  under  conditions 
which  surpass  the  limits  of  possible  observation.^  The  theory 
certainly  is  not  without  attractiveness.  According  to  the  first 
law  of  motion,  a  body  under  the  influence  of  a  single  force  moves 
in  a  straight  line.  No  body,  however,  can  be  pointed  out  that 
meets  this  condition.  On  the  contrary,  the  forces  acting  upon 
every  body  within  our  notice  appear  to  be  unlimited  in  number. 
To  find  an  exact  application  of  the  law  we  should  be  forced  to 
imagine  a  body  at  an  infinite  distance  from  the  rest  of  the  uni- 
verse. Similarly,  the  law  of  the  conservation  of  energy  involves 
the  notion  of  a  closed  system,  a  notion  for  which  no  corresponding 
object  can  be  found  except  the  universe  as  a  whole.  So,  too,  in 
the  case  of  the  lever.  The  formula  which  describes  its  action 
requires  that  its  fulcrum  be  a  mathematical  straight  line,  a  con- 
dition which  we  find  nowhere  realized.  The  endeavor  to  find  the 
perfect  lever  simply  leads  us  to  dissect  the  visible  lever  into 
smaller  and  smaller  segments,  without  a  real  expectation  of  ever 
arriving  at  a  satisfactory  conclusion. 

But  now  let  us  ask  whether  it  is  in  such  application  as  this  that 
the  significance  of  these  laws  really  consists?  Do  we  not  see 
the  realization  of  the  first  law  of  motion  in  the  missile  which  is 
thrown  from  the  hand?  To  be  sure,  neither  is  it  acted  upon  by  a 
single  force,  not  is  its  course  a  straight  line.  But  we  say  that 
in  so  far  as  other  forces  are  negligible  in  comparison,  the  course 
is  indeed  a  straight  line.  And  do  we  not  find  the  law  of  the  con- 
servation of  energy  realized  in  the  relation  of  the  food  we  eat 
to  the  work  we  do?  Here  again,  to  be  sure,  there  are  other 
sources  of  energy  and  abundant  avenues  for  the  escape  of  the 
energy  developed ;  but  even  in  so  crude  an  example  as  this,  we 

^Science  and  Hypothesis,  pp.  98-100. 


« 


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<«i 


IS8 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


would  hold  that  the  operation  of  the  law  is  unquestionable — 
that  it  is  merely  concealed  and  not  held  in  abeyance.  And, 
finally,  the  principle  of  the  lever  we  find  actually  operative  in 
the  iron  crowbar,  which,  resting  on  one  log,  moves  another. 
And  let  it  be  considered  that  apart  from  such  concrete  instances 
as  these,  the  laws  in  question  have  no  meaning  for  us.  It  was 
not  from  the  consideration  of  infinite  distances,  or  of  the  universe 
as  a  whole,  or  of  the  ultimate  constituents  of  matter,  that  these 
laws  were  derived — so  much  is  obvious.  And  their  actual  utility 
in  the  interpretation  of  our  every-day  life,  as  well  as  of  our 
scientific  experience,  is  enormous.  To  suppose  that  their  true 
application  is  something  utterly  different  from  any  application 
we  ever  actually  make  of  them  is  trifling  with  common  sense. 

No,  these  laws,  like  other  laws,  are  instruments  by  means  of 
which  we  analyze  phenomena.  They  are  demonstrated,  not  from 
'pure'  instances,  but  from  instances  in  which  disturbing  factors 
are  as  far  as  possible  eliminated;  and,  both  in  the  more  simple 
and  in  the  more  complex  instances,  their  significance  is  that  of 
the  description  of  a  contributing  factor  in  a  total  process.  It  is, 
indeed,  to  this  fact  that  the  exactness  of  the  laws  is  due,  for  this 
is  but  complementary  to  the  confessed  insufficiency  of  the  analy- 
sis. All  inexactness  is  attributed  to  further,  as  yet  undistin- 
guished, conditions.  But  to  say  that  the  laws  are  approximately 
verified  under  approximately  perfect  conditions  is  to  understate 
their  experimental  basis.  They  are  verified  with  less  and  less 
average  inexactness  as  the  conditions  approach  perfection.  M. 
Poincar6's  theory  takes  no  account  of  this  all-important  fact. 
And  it  must  be  added,  that  even  though  no  single  decisive  test 
can  ever  overthrow  these  laws,  yet,  if  with  increasingly  delicate 
observations  the  average  error  should  ever  fail  to  decrease,  they 
would  be  regarded  as  disproved  in  their  present  form,  and  would 
have  to  be  materially  corrected. 

On  the  whole,  we  find  no  sufficient  reason  for  placing  the 
principles  of  mechanics  in  an  absolutely  different  category  from 
those  of  economics.     The  essential  difference  appears  to  consist 


< 


EXAMINATION  OF  THE   PRINCIPLES 


159 


7 


in  the  nature  of  the  abstraction  which  is  made  in  the  two  sciences. 
The  laws  of  economics  are  protected  by  an  'other  things  being 
equal,'  where  there  is  by  no  means  a  definite  conception  as  to 
what  these  other  things  may  possibly  include.  In  mechanics 
there  is  no  'other  things  being  equal.'  The  antecedent  of  each 
formula  purports,  at  least,  to  set  forth  the  precise  conditions 
under  which  the  consequent  must  follow.  Aside  from  this  we 
can  only  say  that  mechanical  laws  represent  a  far  higher  grade  of 
universality  and  precision  than  economic  laws  have  attained,  orj 
very  possibly,  will  ever  attain. 

The  case  of  geometry  and  that  of  mechanics  hang  closely  to- 
gether. It  is  known  that  the  principles  of  the  two  sciences  are 
so  related  that  considerable  alterations  can  be  made  in  either 
and  sufficiently  compensated  by  corresponding  alterations  in  the 
other.  A  non-Euclidean  geometry,  coupled  with  its  appropriate 
non-Newtonian  mechanics,  can  describe  our  world  as  exactly 
as  the  Euclidean  can  do.  In  short,  geometry  is  recognizedly  a 
branch  of  appliec^  mathematics — an  experimental  science  which  has 
long  since  reached  the  deductive  stage.  If  mathematicians  some- 
times appear  to  take  it  otherwise,  that  is  because  they  have  re- 
defined the  term.  It  then  no  longer  professes  to  treat  of  the 
space-relations  of  our  experience,  but  is,  as  the  phrase  goes,  a 
science  of  'cross-classification.* 

There  remains  only  pure  mathematics — that  is  to  say,  formal 
logic  and  the  sciences  of  number  and  order  deducible  from  formal 
logic_as  a  possible  obstacle  to  an  evolutionary  view  of  scientific 
validity.  We  are  inclined  to  the  belief  that  this  also  is  no  insuper- 
able obstacle,— that  logic,  like  geometry  and  mechanics,  repre- 
sents a  stage  in  the  development  of  scientific  universality,  not  the 
ideal  consummation.  The  numerical  formulas  (such  as  Kant's  no- 
torious 7-1-5  =  12),  upon  whose  a  priori  certainty  so  much  stress 
was  formerly  laid,  are  in  themselves,  as  has  been  definitely  shown | 
analytical  propositions  and,  indeed,  absolute  identities:  the  defij 
nitions  of  the  two  members  of  the  equality  can  always  be  reduced! 
to  an  identical  form.^    The  vital  question  is  whether  the  under- 

iCf.  L.  Couturat,  Les  Principes  des  Mathematiques,  p.  255,  n.  3. 


Mi 


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DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


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lying  concept  of  number  itself,  and  below  it  the  concepts  of 
implication  and-inclusion,  are  absolutely  final.  This  we  see  no 
sufficient  reason  to  believe.  On  the  contrary,  the  utterly  un- 
expected development  which  the  concept  of  number  has  recently 
undergone  through  researches  in  the  theory  of  infinite  numbers 
is  an  index  of  the  possibilities  which  may  yet  be  in  store.  Nothing 
could  ever  have  seemed  more  necessary  than  that  if  2X  =  X, 
X  =^  o\  and  yet  we  know  today  that  there  is  a  distinct  class  of 
other  roots.  The  old  number-theory,  which  was  thought  to  be 
absolutely  true,  is  seen  to  be  true  only  within  a  certain  limitation, 
namely,  that  the  numbers  considered  be  finite.  It  has  been 
aufgehoben— refuted  as  absolute,  and  taken  up  and  preserved  as 
part  of  an  ampler  whole.  For  all  that  we  know,  the  theory  of 
today  may  be  similarly  aufgehoben  tomorrow. 

The  classification  of  contemporary  human  races  presents  in  tem- 
poral cross-section  a  picture  of  the  evolution  of  humanity.  The 
classification  of  the  sciences  presents  in  a  like  cross-section  a  pic- 
ture of  the  evolution  of  human  judgment.  Of  this  evolution,  we  re- 
peat, the  pragmatist  theory  of  truth  has  taken  insufficient  account. 

Nothing  is  more  dangerously  misleading  than  an  indiscriminate 
induction  from  the  various  stages  of  a  given  development.  That 
most,  if  not  all,  laws  are  approximate,  that  their  validity  is 
relative  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  particular  wants  of  individual 
men,  and  hence  that  validity  is  determined  by  maximal  individual 
satisfaction,  is  true  enough  to  be  exceedingly  false.  It  is  like 
Hume's  theory— founded  upon  a  similar  sweeping  induction— 
that  justice  is  whatever  custom  makes  it.  Whereas,  for  example, 
Locke  had  claimed  that  taxation  without  representation  is  un- 
just, Hume  observes:  "What  authority  any  moral  reasoning  can 
have,  which  leads  into  opinions  so  wide  of  the  general  practice 
of  mankind  in  every  place  but  this  single  kingdom,  it  is  easy  to 
determine."^  Hume's  induction  was  correct.  He  might  even 
have  added  that  in  Great  Britain  the  suffrage  was  strangely 
limited.  And  yet  Locke  was  more  than  half  right,  because  the 
norm  which  he  described  lay  athwart  the  course  of  social  evolu- 

^EssayXXXlV, 


}  • 


EXAMINATION   OF   THE    PRINCIPLES 


161 


tion.  So,  when  the  pragmatist  interprets  his  doctrine  as  an 
individualism,  we  declare  that  we  find  the  rationalist  right  as 
against  him;  for  the  latter  merely  describes  as  a  realized,  or 
definitely  realizable,  end  an  indefinitely  distant  ideal  toward 
which  the  developing  judgment  tends. 

Will  it  be  said  that  the  development  which  we  have  been  trac- 
ing is  not  of  truth,  but  of  the  capacity  of  the  judgment  for  ex- 
pressing truth,  that  truth  itself  is  the  eternal  ideal  toward  which 
the  whole  development  is  tending?     Well  and  good;  we  need 
not  quarrel  about  terms.     But,  in  the  first  place,  let  it  be  re- 
membered, that  the  stages  of  this  development  are  not  past  and 
gone.     We  cannot  live  by  pure  mathematics  alone,  enormously 
valuable  as  its  conceptions  are  to  us.     Truths  such  as,  "Johnny 
is  a  baby,"  and  "William  is  still  young,"  are  still  wonderfully 
important  to  us;  and  it  is  idle  to  say  that  they  are  not  true. 
Whatever  truth  may  mean  for  an  absolute  consciousness,  for  us 
it  certainly  includes  all  the  grades  that  have  been  mentioned, 
and  no  doubt  others  which  we  have  not  distinguished.     It  is  an 
utterly  arbitrary  use  of  terms  to  restrict  it  to  the  ultimate  ideal. 
In  the  second  place,  we  must  beware  of  imagining  that  science 
as  a  whole  is  approaching  the  mathematical  type — that  the  day 
is  nearing,  though  still  far  distant,  when  all  our  encyclopedias 
shall  be  reduced  to  tables  of  formulae.     Take  any  particular  field 
of  concrete  inquiry,  and  as  investigation  proceeds,  a  body  of  more 
and  more  general  and  precise  propositions  is  accumulated  within 
it.     But  even  within  the  given  field  the  looser,  more  vaguely 
limited  propositions  likewise  accumulate.     The  evolution  is  a 
spreading-out  and  a  fiUing-in,  as  well  as  a  growth  upward.    The 
same  is  true  of  knowledge  in  general.     Paradoxical  as  the  state- 
ment may  seem,  each  new  stage  in  the  advancement  of  science 
makes  it  more  and  more  manifestly  impossible  that  its  highest 
type  of  judgment  should  ever  be  applied  to  express  its  entire 
content.     There  is  a  manifest  increase  in  clearness  and  universal- 
ity, but  there  is  also  a  constant  expansion  of  the  confused  and  the 
contingent;  and  the  importance  of  these  in  our  world-view  is 
assuredly  not  declining. 


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CHAPTER  III 

THE    DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND   ITS  FUNCTIONS 

I.  The  Concept  of  the  Object 

It  has  been  pointed  out  that  pragmatists,  explicitly  or  by  impli- 
cation, have  recognized  two  aspects  of  meaning;  on  the  one  hand, 
the  reference  to  conduct,  the  value  of  the  idea,  or  what  we  have 
called  its  import',  and,  on  the  other  hand,  its  content,  consisting 
of  its  relations  to  certain  other  ideas  and  represented  roughly 
by  the  terms  genus  and  differentia.  But,  while  they  have  done 
so  much,  they  have  not  concerned  themselves  to  bring  out  the 
very  intimate  relationship  which  the  two  aspects  bear  to  each 
other.  Had  pragmatist  writers  faced  this  problem,  they  might 
have  averted  much  of  the  criticism  urged  against  them,  and  at 
the  same  time  have  opened  the  way  to  a  very  fruitful  develop- 
ment of  their  theory. 

That  a  very  intimate  relationship  exists  will  readily  appear 
upon  consideration  of  a  very  simple  case  of  the  learning-process. 
We  are  fully  aware  that  there  is  a  certain  danger  in  this  pro- 
cedure—the  same. danger  that  is  always  incurred  in  the  attempt 
to  explain  later  and  more  complex  features  of  an  organism  through 
reference  to  a  simple  and  primitive  type.     On  the  one  hand, 
there  is  the  tendency  to  interpret  the  later  type  in  terms  far  too 
simple  to  do  it  justice;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  the  ten- 
dency, equally  strong,  to  falsify  the  earlier  type  by  reading  into 
it  characteristics  which  properly  belong  only  to  later  stages  of 
development.     And  yet  these  tendencies  are  not,  we  believe,  so 
unavoidable,  that  we  should  forego  the  great  advantage  to  be 
gained  from  the  schematic  clearness  that  is  thus  made  possible. 
Let  us  assume  as  the  starting  point  of  the  process  that  an 
accustomed  stimulus  A  is  regularly  met  by  the  response  B  with 
satisfactory  consequences.    We  assume  the  conscious  experience 

162 


THE    DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND    ITS   FUNCTIONS    163 

of  A,  and  the  learning-process  which  we  have  to  study  consists 
of  the  development  of  this  A  into  two  distinct  forms,  A'  and  A'\ 
(With  the  origin  of  consciousness  we  have  no  present  concern, 
any  more  than  the  student  of  cellular  differentiation  is  concerned 
with  the  origin  of  the  first  cells.)  Upon  certain  occasions,  let 
us  say,  the  usual  response  B  brings  an  unpleasant  result.  Sub- 
sequent behavior  on  meeting  with  the  stimulus  is  thereupon 
modified  until  a  satisfactory  mode  of  response  is  hit  upon ;  and  at 
the  same  time  attention  is  directed  to  the  stimulus  previously 
experienced  as  ^.  As  a  result  of  a  successful  modification  of  the 
earlier  behavior,  we  now  find  that  the  original  vaguely  sensed 
stimulus  A  has  become  differentiated  into  the  more  attentively 
perceived  A^  and  A",  each  demanding  its  own  peculiar  response, 
B'  and  B  respectively. 

Until  the  modified  behavior  has  become  habitual,  and  while, 
therefore,  consciousness  is  still  actively  functional,  there  is,  on 
the  appearance  of  the  stimulus  A'  (for  example),  a  conscious 
association  of  it  with  the  kinsesthetic  and  organic  sensations  that 
accompany  its  response  B\  and  perhaps  with  the  revived  image 
of  the  immediate  consequences  of  this  response.  When  this  asso- 
ciation disintegrates,  the  stimulus  tends  to  pass  outside  the  field 
of  attention  and  later  to  drop  out  of  consciousness  altogether. 
In  other  words.  A',  in  so  far  as  it  is  attentively  recognized, 
means  B'  or  the  remembered  consequences  of  B' , 

But  there  is  another  side  to  the  meaning,  which  ought  not  to 
be  overlooked.  When,  at  the  outset  of  the  learning-process,  the 
response  B  results  at  various  times  unpleasantly,  it  is  not  to  be 
supposed  that  it  is  only  on  the  occurrence  of  such  stimuli  as  will 
later  elicit  the  different  response  B'  that  an  inhibitory  tendency 
will  assert  itself.  Every  A  is  still  followed  by  B,  for  the  lesson 
is  not  learned  from  a  single  experience;  and  in  every  case  a 
slight  weakening  of  the  impulse  may  occur.  And  even  if  some 
comparatively  striking  feature  of  the  A  that  was  wrongly  dealt 
with  becomes  quickly  associated  with  the  shrinking  movements 
that  attend  the  unpleasantness,  so  that  only  A 's  with  this  feature 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND   ITS  FUNCTIONS 

I.  The  Conxept  of  the  Object 

It  has  been  pointed  out  that  pragmatists,  explicitly  or  by  impli- 
cation, have  recognized  two  aspects  of  meaning;  on  the  one  hand, 
the  reference  to  conduct,  the  value  of  the  idea,  or  what  we  have 
called  its  import;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  its  content,  consisting 
of  its  relations  to  certain  other  ideas  and  represented  roughly 
by  the  terms  genus  and  differentia.  But,  while  they  have  done 
so  much,  they  have  not  concerned  themselves  to  bring  out  the 
very  intimate  relationship  which  the  two  aspects  bear  to  each 
other.  Had  pragmatist  writers  faced  this  problem,  they  might 
have  averted  much  of  the  criticism  urged  against  them,  and  at 
the  same  time  have  opened  the  way  to  a  very  fruitful  develop- 
ment of  their  theory. 

That  a  very  intimate  relationship  exists  will  readily  appear 
upon  consideration  of  a  very  simple  case  of  the  learning-process. 
We  are  fully  aware  that  there  is  a  certain  danger  in  this  pro- 
cedure—the  same  danger  that  is  always  incurred  in  the  attempt 
to  explain  later  and  more  complex  features  of  an  organism  through 
reference  to  a  simple  and  primitive  type.-    On  the  one  hand, 
there  is  the  tendency  to  interpret  the  later  type  in  terms  far  too 
simple  to  do  it  justice;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  the  ten- 
dency, equally  strong,  to  falsify  the  earlier  type  by  reading  into 
it  characteristics  which  properly  belong  only  to  later  stages  of 
development.    And  yet  these  tendencies  are  not,  we  believe,  so 
unavoidable,  that  we  should  forego  the  great  advantage  to  be 
gained  from  the  schematic  clearness  that  is  thus  made  possible. 
Let  us  assume  as  the  starting  point  of  the  process  that  an 
accustomed  stimulus  A  is  regularly  met  by  the  response  B  with 
satisfactory  consequences.     We  assume  the  conscious  experience 

162 


'l|i 


THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND    ITS   FUNCTIONS    163 

of  A ,  and  the  learning-process  which  we  have  to  study  consists 
of  the  development  of  this  A  into  two  distinct  forms.  A'  and  A". 
(With  the  origin  of  consciousness  we  have  no  present  concern, 
any  more  than  the  student  of  cellular  differentiation  is  concerned 
with  the  origin  of  the  first  cells.)  Upon  certain  occasions,  let 
us  say,  the  usual  response  B  brings  an  unpleasant  result.  Sub- 
sequent behavior  on  meeting  with  the  stimulus  is  thereupon 
modified  until  a  satisfactory  mode  of  response  is  hit  upon ;  and  at 
the  same  time  attention  is  directed  to  the  stimulus  previously 
experienced  as  ^.  As  a  result  of  a  successful  modification  of  the 
earlier  behavior,  we  now  find  that  the  original  vaguely  sensed 
stimulus  A  has  become  differentiated  into  the  more  attentively 
perceived  A'  and  ^",  each  demanding  its  own  peculiar  response, 
B'  and  B  respectively. 

Until  the  modified  behavior  has  become  habitual,  and  while, 
therefore,  consciousness  is  still  actively  functional,  there  is,  on 
the  appearance  of  the  stimulus  A'  (for  example),  a  conscious 
association  of  it  with  the  kinsesthetic  and  organic  sensations  that 
accompany  its  response  J5',  and  perhaps  with  the  revived  image 
of  the  immediate  consequences  of  this  response.  When  this  asso- 
ciation disintegrates,  the  stimulus  tends  to  pass  outside  the  field 
of  attention  and  later  to  drop  out  of  consciousness  altogether. 
In  other  words,  A\  in  so  far  as  it  is  attentively  recognized, 
means  B'  or  the  remembered  consequences  of  B' , 

But  there  is  another  side  to  the  meaning,  which  ought  not  to 
be  overlooked.  When,  at  the  outset  of  the  learning-process,  the 
response  B  results  at  various  times  unpleasantly,  it  is  not  to  be 
supposed  that  it  is  only  on  the  occurrence  of  such  stimuli  as  will 
later  elicit  the  different  response  B'  that  an  inhibitory  tendency 
will  assert  itself.  Every  A  is  still  followed  by  B,  for  the  lesson 
is  not  learned  from  a  single  experience;  and  in  every  case  a 
slight  weakening  of  the  impulse  may  occur.  And  even  if  some 
comparatively  striking  feature  of  the  A  that  was  wrongly  dealt 
with  becomes  quickly  associated  with  the  shrinking  movements 
that  attend  the  unpleasantness,  so  that  only  ^'s  with  this  feature 


i\ 


i 


164 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


give  rise  to  a  weakened  impulse,  yet  the  feature  in  question  may 
well  enough  be  entirely  disconnected  with  the  peculiar  experience, 
and  the  incipient  differentiation  of  A  that  thus  arises  may  count 
for  nothing  in  the  ultimate  result.  Speaking  generally,  then,  we 
may  say  that  the  effect  of  an  unsuccessful  B  is  to  weaken  the 
impulse  to  B  whenever  A  occurs.  Now  in  numbers  of  cases  the 
weakened  impulse  is  immediately  reinforced  by  success;  in  others 
it  is  further  sapped  by  failure;  and  the  two  effects  may  for  some 
time  cancel  each  other  without  other  manifest  issue  than  the 
heightening  of  attention. 

What  is  necessary  for  the  learning-process  is  a  reorganization 
of  the  sense-experience  A  in  the  two  classes  of  cases;  not  that 
new  elements  should  be  brought  to  consciousness,  but  that  the 
old  should  be  given  a  new  emphasis,  so  that  feeling  and  active 
response  may  attach  to  the  really  important  marks.     The  trial- 
and-error  is  not  simply  a  selection  between  movements,  but  a 
selection  between  candidates  for  the  focus.     In  the  latter  aspect, 
as  in  the  former,  we  have  no  reason  to  suppose  anything  more 
recondite  than  a  process  of  summation.     A  comparatively  ob- 
scure feature,  which  when  responded  to  by  B  is  repeatedly  and 
without  exception  succeeded  by  unpleasant  after  effects,  and 
when  responded  to  by  the  modified  B'  as  invariably  leads  to 
pleasant  after  effects,  must  finally  make  its  way  to  the  center  of 
attention;  while  the  various  false  cues,  leading  to  conflicting 
results,  retire  into  the  background. 

Now  where  the  recognition  of  A'  (for  example)  is  attended 
with  distinct  effort— and  even  when  this  is  no  longer  generally 
the  case  it  may  still  occasionally  happen— this  recognition  is  its 
discrimination  from  a  possible  ^'',  as  the  movements  of  hesitation 
suffice  to  indicate.  Thus  A'  and  A''  sustain  a  quasi-logical  rela- 
tion to  each  other,  as  well  as  to  the  vaguer  image  A' -or- A''  of 
which  they  are  alternative  fiUings-in.  The  significance  of  each 
is  partly  that  it  is  not  the  other.  The  first  impression  may  be, 
for  example,  of  a  moving  something  to  be  attacked  or  to  be 
avoided ;  and  the  aroused  attention  then  amplifies  the  image  so 


THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND    ITS   FUNCTIONS    165 


as  to  characterize  it  as  prey  or  enemy.  The  essential  point  to 
be  noted  is  that,  as  new  ideas  arise  by  differentiation  from  old 
ones,  they  preserve  this  species  of  relation  to  each  other;  and 
further  that  the  maintenance  of  this  relation  may  often  be  es- 
sential to  their  serviceableness  in  their  natural  function  of  the 

guidance  of  conduct. 

It  is  these  quasi-logical  relations  to  which  we  have  attached 
the  term  content.  Too  much  should  not  be  read  into  it.  The 
type  of  learning-process  with  which  we  are  dealing  is  antecedent 
to  the  rise  of  thought  proper.  Such  ideation  as  is  present  is 
non-conceptual,  there  being  as  yet  no  appearance  of  the  distinc- 
tion between  individual  and  universal,  or  even  the  perception  of 
things  as  permanent  objects— to  say  nothing  of  abstract  qualities 
and  relations.  And  yet  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  type 
of  experience  which  does  exist  is  the  matrix  from  which  universal 
and  individual  develop,  and  that  we  should  expect  to  find  in  it 
the  mingled  characteristics  of  both. 

It  is  clear  that  in  their  origin  import  and  content  are  insepara- 
bly connected.  It  is  the  necessity  for  a  differentiation  of  the 
response  that  gives  rise  to  the  differentiation  of  the  stimulus. 
The  former  cannot  occur  without  the  latter,  and  the  latter  would 
not  occur  without  the  former.  Thus  the  peculiar  import  which 
the  consciousness  of  a  stimulus  possesses— whether  analyzable 
into  k'nsesthetic  and  organic  sensations  or  into  memory-images 
--is  intimately  connected  with  the  attentive  discrimination  of 
the  stimulus  in  situations  where  its  identity  is  doubtful. 

One  of  the  chief  weaknesses  of  pragmatism  has  undoubtedly 
been  the  loose  fashion  in  which  it  has  treated,  under  the  general 
name  of  'idea,'  all  forms  of  cognitive  experience  from  the  pre- 
logical  sense-images  of  animals  and  early  childhood  to  the  ab- 
stract conceptions  of  science.  What  pragmatist  writers  have 
mostly  been  concerned  to  point  out,  is  the  reference  of  all  ideas 
to  conduct.  Since  this  was  their  distinctively  new  doctrine,  the 
emphasis  upon  it  has  undoubtedly  been  proper  enough  in  the 


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9, 


1 66 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


past.  Nevertheless  the  failure  to  discriminate  and  describe  the 
various  ways  in  which  the  different  types  of  cognitive  experience 
function  in  the  control  of  conduct,  has  certainly  become  a  serious 
defect  in  their  general  theory.  It  would  seem.,  for  example,  a 
matter  of  considerable  importance  to  the  successful  development 
of  pragmatism,  that  some  systematic  account  should  be  given  of 
the  distinctive  character  of  general  ideas  on  the  one  hand,  and 
of  particular  ideas  on  the  other  hand,  together  with  their  genetic 
relationship;  or,  again,  that  a  similar  account  be  given  of  the 
genetic  relationship  of  the  perception  of  objects  to  simple  sense- 
experience.  Yet,  so  far  as  we  are  aware,  no  such  account  has 
been  attempted.  [Thus,  according  to  Professor  James's  Pragma- 
tism, the  meaning  of  any  idea  consists  in  the  particular  differences 
in  conduct  which  it  involves/  Any  difference  in  meaning  between 
one  idea  and  another,  accordingly,  is  wholly  resolvable  into  the 
difference  between  the  "cash-values"  of  the  two  ideas.  Professor 
James's  treatment  is  of  course  intended  to  be  merely  general; 
and  yet  not  only  does  it  take  no  account  of  any  possible  specific 
differences  between  different  kinds  of  ideas,  but  it  is  hard  to  see 
how  any  difference  of  kind  could  be   made  out   on  the   terms 

provided. 

A  treatment  of  the  nature  of  meaning  would  seem  to  demand 
the  consideration  of  two  problems  of  primary  importance:  first, 
the  distinctive  characteristics  of  the  concept  of  an  object,  both  on 
the  side  of  content  and  on  that  of  import;  and,  second,  the  dis- 
tinctive characteristics  of  the  general  concept.  The  first  of  these 
problems  is  indeed  touched  upon  by  Professor  James.  In  the 
passage  already  quoted,  in  which  he  sums  up  the  "principle  of 
Peirce,"  he  writes:  "To  attain  perfect  clearness  in  our  thoughts 
of  an  object,  then,  we  need  only  consider  what  conceivable  effects 
of  a  practical  kind  the  object  may  involve — what  sensations 
we  are  to  expect  from  it,  and  what  reactions  we  must  prepare. 
Our  conception  of  these  effects,  whether  immediate  or  remote, 
is  then  for  us  the  whole  of  our  conception  of  the  object,  so  far  as 
that  conception  has  positive  significance  at  all"  (pp.  46-47)- 


THE   DEVELOPING  CONCEPT  AND   ITS   FUNCTIONS    1 6/ 

In  opposition  to  this  statement  we  would  assert  that  no  object 
ever  can  mean  any  particular  sensations  or  any  particular  re- 
actions.    What   particular  sensations  and  what  particular  re- 
actions constitute,  for  example,  our  conception  of  the-  winter 
overcoat  of  daily  wear?     It  has,  to  be  sure,  a  certain  familiar 
and  recognized  aspect  when  we  see  it  hanging  in  the  hall;  but 
its  identity  is  perhaps  never  a  simple  identity  of  visual  sensations. 
Never  twice  on  such  occasions,  in  all  probability,  have  we  re- 
ceived the  same  visual  sensations  from  it.     Other  sensations, 
which  we  might  be  supposed  to  expect  from  it  are,  it  need  scarcely 
be  added,  equally  uncertain.     The  case  is  similar  as  regards  our 
reactions  toward  it.     It  is  true,  we  usually  put  it  on  in  the 
morning;  but  if,  when  we  try  to  button  it  up,  we  find  a  button 
missing,  we  may  take  it  off  and  wear  another  for  the  day.     Again, 
we  may  turn  the  collar  up  if  it  is  snowing,  or  if  we  have  a  sore 
throat;  but  we  may  unbutton  it  when  the  day  is  mild,  or  if  we 
wish  to  pay  our  car-fare.     All  these  reactions  the  coat  may  in- 
volve in  winter,  while  it  is  an  object  of  daily  wear.     But  what 
conduct  does  it  demand  on  the  return  of  spring?     Packing  away 
in  moth-balls?    Giving  it  to  the  Salvation  Army?  (In  short,  the^ 
object  as  such  is  only  a  conditional  determinant  of  any  specific  re- 
action, just  as  it  is  only  a  conditional  determinant  of  any  specific 
sensations.     And  it  is  the  nature  of  the  conditions  under  which 
an  object  may  determine  sensation  on  the  one  hand,  and  reaction 
on  the  other— that  is,  its  relations  to  other  objects— which  con- 
stitutes in  a  large  measure  our  conception  of  it.   What  does  deter- 
mine conduct  in  any  case  is  the  total  situation.     The  relation  of 
the  object  to  the  situation  is  that  of  a  factor  recognized  as  a 
possible  factor  in  other  situations^ 

In  order  to  gain  a  better  understanding  of  the  functional  sig- 
nificance of  the  concept  of  an  object,  it  may  be  profitable  to 
inquire  into  its  probable  origin  in  a  more  primitive  type  of  exper- 
ience. Under  what  general  conditions  may  we  suppose  such  a 
concept  to  have  been  derived  from  the  type  of  experience  which 
we  considered  in  the  preceding  analysis  of  a  simple  learning- 


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THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND    ITS   FUNCTIONS     169 


process?  Such  a  process  results,  as  has  been  shown,  in  the 
forming  of  a  distinction  between  two  stimuli  formerly  undis- 
tinguished and  reacted  to  in  the  same  way.  Now  the  fact  that 
the  two  stimuli  have  come  to  be  recognized  as  different,  may  not 
at  all  imply  any  analysis  of  either  stimulus.  The  difference 
between  them  may  be  felt  simply  as  a  difference  on  the  whole. 
But  such  a  type  of  consciousness  can  have  but  a  limited  sphere 
of  usefulness.  If  the  animal  can  profit  by  more  complex  and 
varied  behavior,  then  a  more  developed  type  of  cognitive  control 
is  of  evident  advantage.  Thus  if  the  food  of  the  animal  be  a 
living  creature,  which  can  safely  be  attacked  in  some  situations, 
but  which  it  is  better  to  avoid  in  other  situations,  it  is  of  impor- 
tance that  the  situation  be  differentiated  into  prey  and  significant 
circumstances.  Still  more  necessary  is  it  that  the  prey  be  dis- 
criminated as  distinct  from  its  surroundings,  if  the  most  advan- 
tageous mode  of  attack  varies  with  change  of  situation.  But 
until  a  stage  is  reached  where  it  is  of  decided  advantage  to  behave 
differently  toward  prey  under  different  circumstances,  there  is 
no  reason  why  the  prey  should  itself  be  recognized  as  a  distinct 
object.  It  becomes  an  object  for  the  consciousness  of  the  animal, 
only  in  so  far  as  it  is  discriminated  as  an  element  in  a  total  com- 
plex situation.  From  the  standpoint  of  biological  utility,  it  is 
clear  that  the  object  ^  so  far  from  meaning  a  definite  type  of  behavior  ^ 
is  recognized  as  an  object  only  as  it  is  associated  with  important 
diversity  of  behavior  in  characteristically  different  situations. 

The  emergence  of  the  object  marks  a  critical  stage  in  the  de- 
velopment of  conscious  life.  Its  importance  lies  fundamentally 
in  the  indirectness  which  the  cognitive  control  of  conduct  now 
assumes.  Broadly  speaking,  it  is  the  indirectness  of  the  reference 
of  cognitive  experience  to  conduct,  that,  on  the  one  hand,  makes 
it  so  efficient  an  instrument  of  control,  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
gives  thought  its  distinctive  character.  Regarded  from  this 
standpoint,  the  whole  development  of  conscious  life  may  be 
characterized  as  an  increasing  indirectness  in  the  control  of  con- 
duct.    More  specifically,  the  emergence  of  the  object  means  the 


emergence  of  a  set  of  constant  elements  into  which  new  situations 
may  be  resolved.  Instead  of  experience  falling  into  a  succession 
of  stimuli  related  to  each  other  as  simply  alike  on  the  whole  and 
different  on  the  whole,  it  now  falls  into  a  succession  of  complex 
presentations,  containing  constant  factors  in  new  and  varying 
combinations.  The  identity  of  these  factors  gives  a  continuity 
to  experience  which  was  impossible  before.  As  a  result  of  this, 
the  learning-process  becomes  a  far  more  efficient  means  of  adapta- 
tion. The  discovery  of  the  proper  response  to  a  new  situation 
need  no  longer  be  a  matter  of  sheer  chance.  The  new  situation, 
if  it  contain  familiar  objects,  tends  to  stimulate  not  simply  one 
habitual  response  but  the  whole  group  of  conditional  responses 
which  the  object  represents.  Thus  if  one  response  fails,  an  alter- 
native is  ready.  Foresight  is  immeasurably  extended.  In  pro- 
portion as  the  concept  of  the  object  gains  in  variety  of  associa- 
tions, the  individual  becomes  correspondingly  fertile  of  resources 
in  the  face  of  new  conditions. 

So  much  for  the  significance  of  the  concept  of  the  object  in 
reference  to  conduct — its  value,  or,  as  we  have  termed  it,  its 
import.  The  increase  in  complexity,  the  indirectness  of  the  refer- 
ence to  conduct,  which  we  have  pointed  out,  is  correlative  to  a 
corresponding  development  on  the  side  of  content.  The  content 
is  made  up,  on  the  one  hand,  of  distinctions  between  the  object 
and  the  situation  and  of  its  quasi-logical  connections  with  other 
objects  from  which  it  must  be  discriminated.  As  in  the  case  of 
the  simpler  sense-impression,  these  connections  include  the  dif- 
ferences between  the  given  object  and  other  objects,  together 
with  the  more  general  likeness  equally  recognized  as  subsisting 
between  them;  for  objects,  like  simple  sense-impressions,  come 
to  be  discriminated  as  possessing  differences  only  in  so  far  as 
there  is  a  tendency  to  confuse  them  under  certain  conditions. 
This  confusion  may  arise  simply  from  a  lack  of  sufficient  atten- 
tion; or  it  may  be  that  two  objects  remain  indistinguishable 
under  some  conditions,  and  that  a  change  of  condition  is  necessary 
to  enable  their  differences  to  become  discernible.     On  the  other 


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DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


hand,  the  distinctions  thus  constitutive  of  the  content  are  correla- 
tive with  the  second  aspect  of  the  content — namely,  the  recog- 
nized identity  of  the  object  with  itself  in  different  situations.  In 
the  earlier  form  of  cognitive  experience,  the  identity  of  the 
stimulus  is  a  simple  given  identity  of  sense-qualities  within  which 
no  differences  subsist.  But  the  identity  of  the  object  is  the  identity 
of  a  system.  It  is  constituted  by  the  whole  group  of  possible 
sense-impressions,  associated  with  the  conditions  of  their  appear- 
ance. Thus,  for  example,  a  single  sense-impression  may  not  be 
sufficient  to  establish  the  identity  of  the  thing  perceived.  The 
given  impression  may  be  precisely  that  which  the  supposed  object 
would  yield  under  the  given  conditions;  but  it  cannot  be  truly 
identified  as  the  object,  unless  under  changed  conditions  it  con- 
tinues to  yield  such  impressions  as  are  to  be  expected  from  that 
object  upon  similar  changes. 

We  are  now  ready  to  call  attention  to  a  further  distinction. 
The  group  of  associations  which  constitutes  the  concept  may 
never  in  its  entirety  be  present  to  consciousness  in  any  single 
experience.  In  fact,  it  is  only  a  concept  of  very  low  type  that 
would  ever  be  wholly  present.  The  concept  is  not  to  be  identified 
with  any  conscious  process,  however  complex.  It  is  an  organi- 
zation of  possible  processes,  which  is  represented  in  consciousness 
by  some  member  or  members  of  the  system  or  by  some  symbol 
associated  therewith.  Such  representative  processes  are  of  two 
kinds:  percepts  and  ideas.  The  system  itself  is  the  object-as- 
conceived,  to  which  the  representative  process  refers,  and  to 
which  it  must  conform  if  it  is  satisfactorily  to  perform  its  cognitive 
function.^  Or,  again,  in  another  sense  of  the  term,  the  system 
is  the  meaning  of  the  representative  percept  or  idea. 

How,  to  take  first  the  case  of  perception,  the  representation 
of  the  system  is  psychologically  accomplished  by  the  actual  per- 
ceptive process,  is  a  problem  which  has  not  been  fully  solved. 

*Of  course,  conformity  to  the  object-as-conceived  is  not  sufficient  to  ensure 
successful  conduct.     For  the  object  may  not  be  adequately  conceived.     It  may  be 
that  future  experiences,  in  revealing  hitherto  unknown  possibilities  of  the  object 
will  demand  a  modification  of  the  conceptual  system. 


THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND   ITS   FUNCTIONS    I/I 

How,  indeed,  can  given  conscious  contents  'represent'  or  'mean* 
or  'point  to'  other  possible  contents  not  given?    Where  the  habit- 
ual associations  which  make  up  the  concept  are  very  few  and 
simple,  representation  may,  perhaps,  be  effected  by  the  revival 
of  images  of  the  associated  experiences;  but  where  the  associa- 
tions of  the  given  sense-presentation  are  numerous  and  complex, 
the  percept  certainly  does  not  contain  the  revived  images  of  all 
the  possible  associated  experiences.     Yet  some  structural  peculi- 
arity of  the  given  content  is,  no  doubt,  to  be  looked  for,  to  account 
for  the  representative  function.     When  the  perception  involves 
an  appreciable  degree  of  attention— which  is,  of  course,   the 
favorable  condition  for  revival— there  would  undoubtedly  be  a 
successful  tendency  in  certain  of  the  associated  experiences  to 
rise  to  clear  consciousness,  while  a  weaker  tendency  on  the  part 
of  others  would  be  inhibited.     We  would  suggest,  however,  that 
such  inhibited  tendencies  to  revival  may  affect  in  a  distinctive 
manner  the  qualitative  tone  of  the  existing  content.     The  arousal 
of  attention  regularly  goes  along  with  some  uncertainty ;  it  means 
the  problematic  character  of  the  presentation  attended  to.     And 
this  problematic  character  may  well  involve  a  conflict  among  the 
various  associations.     There  develops,  it  is  true,  a  capacity  for 
perception  without  any  appreciable  degree  of  attention.     Thus 
the  familiar  objects  of  daily  life  are  given  presentations,  from 
which  all  meaning,  all  conscious  reference,  seems  to  have  worn 
away.i     Nevertheless,  it  would,  we  believe,  be  committing  a 
serious  mistake  to  regard  such  perceptual  experiences  as  merely 
given  presentations  wholly  devoid  of  reference.     Far  better  does 
it  seem  to  regard  their  meaning  or  reference  as  potential,  repre- 
sented by  nascent  tendencies  of  association  with  a  whole  group 

lit  is  this  characteristic  type  of  experience  which  the  pragmatist  is  so  concerned 
to  distinguish  from  the  'knowing.'  or  'cognitive.'  experience  proper.  It  is  just 
the  failure  to  make  this  distinction,  so  Professor  Dewey  claims,  and  the  attempt  to 
treat  all  experience  as  exclusively  cognitive,  that  is  the  source  of  the  futile  intellec- 
tualism  of  present-day  philosophy.  With  this  contention  we  feel  a  certain  sym- 
pathy. But  we  believe  that  the  differences  between  the  'knowing'  experience  and 
other  forms  of  experience  have  been  greatly  exaggerated,  and  that  a  serious  limita- 
tion has  thus  been  put  upon  the  development  of  pragmatist  theory. 


!: 


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DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND    ITS   FUNCTIONS    173 


of  experiences.  These  nascent  associations,  which  remain  nas- 
cent unless  called  out  by  attention,  would  seem  to  be  a  constitu- 
tive characteristic  of  the  percept,  giving  it  its  distinctive  qualita- 
tive tone.  All  this  may  be  expressed  by  the  statement,  that 
existence  and  meaning  are  correlative  aspects  of  perceptual  ex- 
perience; that  in  inattentive  perception  the  meaning  tends  to 
drop  away,  though  this  separation  is  perhaps  never  complete, 
mere  existential  givenness  being  then  a  limit  which  is  not  reached 
in  any  actual  experience. 

No  less  important  than  the  distinction  between  the  concept 
and  the  percept,  is  the  corresponding  distinction  between  the 
concept  and  its  second  kind  of  representative,  the  idea.  Just  as 
in  perception  all  the  members  of  the  group  of  possible  associa- 
tions are  not  present  to  consciousness,  so  they  are  never,  except 
perhaps  at  an  early  stage  of  cognitive  development,  all  present 
in  the  idea.  Here  again  we  meet  a  problem  which  has  not  been 
fully  solved — the  psychological  structure  of  the  idea.  In  general 
it  may  be  said  that  as  compared  with  the  percept  its  representa- 
tive character  is  far  more  essential  to  it.  The  elements,  which 
on  any  particular  occasion  stand  as  the  nucleus  around  which  the 
associations  cluster,  are  far  less  prominent.  It  is  certainly  mis- 
leading to  suppose  the  idea  to  be  a  revival  of  a  particular  percept, 
in  which  reappear  the  same  sensation-qualities  which  figure  so 
prominently  in  perception.  We  may,  indeed,  have  ideas  ap- 
proaching this  type — some  of  us  have  many  such.  But  they 
certainly  appear  but  seldom  in  our  trains  of  reflective  thought. 
Most  of  our  ideas  are  schemata.  The  nucleus  about  which  as- 
sociations cluster  may  be  the  faintest  image  of  a  word,  or  other 
symbol,  perhaps  peculiar  to  the  individual.^  Here  perhaps  to  a 
greater  degree  than  in  attentive  perception  there  is  conflict  be- 
tween alternatively  possible  tendencies  to  revival.  The  nascent 
associations  are,  so  to  speak,  in  a  state  of  irritability.     Many 

JWe  are  of  course  here  speaking  of  the  highest  type  of  cognitive  experience,  and 
not  of  a  stage  prior  to  the  development  of  universal  concepts.  The  appearance  of 
language  marks  a  nodal  point  in  mental  evolution  which  involves  important  modi- 
fications of  both  perceptual  and  ideational  processes . 


remain  inhibited,  while  others  rise  to  clear  consciousness;  the 
selections  being  determined  on  the  one  hand  by  habit,  and  on  the 
other  hand  by  the  total  situation  and  the  nature  of  the  existing 

interest. 

But  whatever  the  psychological  character  of  the  representative 
idea  may  be,  the  essential  point  upon  which  we  must  insist  is  the 
distinction  between  the  idea,  i.  e.,  the  particular  conscious  process, 
and  the  concept,  or  the  system  of  possible  processes  which  the 
idea  represents.  The  former  may  vary  widely  from  situation  to 
situation,  while  the  concept  of  the  object  is  unchanged.  And 
the  variation  of  the  idea  may  affect  not  simply  the  association 
nucleus,  but,  more  importantly,  the  particular  associations  that 
spring  up. 

Excursus  upon  J.  S.  Mill's  Theory  of  Objectivity 

The  kinship  which  certain  leaders  of  the  pragmatist  movement 
have  claimed  with  the  school  of  English  empiricism  has  nowhere 
been  so  expressly  avowed  as  in  their  relation  to  the  last  great 
name  of  the  school— John  Stuart  Mill.     It  is  not  difficult  to 
understand  why  this  should  be  the  case.     It  was  Mill  who  carried 
to  the  farthest  extent  the  psychological  analysis  of  fundamental 
philosophical  concepts  begun  so  brilliantly  by  Berkeley.    And  in 
Mill's  hands  the  subjective  idealism  of  his  predecessors  under- 
went a  remarkable  transformation,  which  is  very  generally  sup- 
posed to  have  issued  in  something  more  nearly  approaching 
realism  than  a  consistent  idealism.     These  supposed  realistic 
tendencies  of  Mill  might  the  more  readily  be  regarded  as  akin  to 
pragmatism,  in  that  it  is  precisely  the  idealistic  side  of  English 
empiricism  that  pragmatists  are  so  concerned  to  disclaim,  be- 
lieving, as  they  unanimously  do,  that  a  new  realism  is  the  logical 
outcome  of  their  pragmatism.    And  yet  the  remarkable  fact  is 
that  Mill's  transformation  of  subjective  idealism  has  received  as 
scant  attention  from  them  as  it  has  from  thinkers  generally  and, 
as  we  believe,  as  great  misappreciation.     As  we  shall  try  to  show, 
it  is  precisely  Mill's  transformation  of  the  idealism  of  Berkeley 


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DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


MILL'S   THEORY   OF   OBJECTIVITY 


175 


and  Hume,  that  constitutes  his  greatest  contribution  to  philo- 
sophical thought,  and    from  which   pragmatism  especially  has 

most  to  learn. 

Misappreciation  of  Mill  has  not  been  confined  to  this  side  of 
his  thought.  His  treatment  of  utilitarianism  met  much  the  same 
fate,  and  for  a  similar  reason,  namely,  his  own  conservative 
attitude  toward  his  philosophical  innovations.  Thus,  in  his 
treatment  of  utilitarianism,  he  advanced,  as  if  it  were  nothing 
more  than  an  unimportant  modification  of  the  prevailing  hedon- 
ism, the  theory  that  desire,  and  not  pleasure,  is  the  determinant 
of  value — a  theory  which  really  involved,  as  is  now  recognized, 
a  profound  transformation  of  the  older  utilitarianism.  Owing 
very  largely  to  the  modest  and  conservative  mode  of  presentation, 
this  new  theory  was  criticized,  on  the  one  hand,  as  being  open 
to  all  the  objections  applicable  to  the  traditional  hedonistic  doc- 
trine, and,  on  the  other  hand,  as  betraying  a  misunderstanding 
of  the  older  doctrine  and  inadvertently  going  over  to  the  camp 
of  the  enemy.  In  the  same  fashion,  his  doctrine  of  objectivity  is 
advanced  as  if  it  involved  only  a  slight  amendment  of  the  sub- 
jective idealism  of  Berkeley  and  Hume.  And  here  too  he  has 
been  accused  of  misinterpreting  the  theory  he  avows  and  in- 
advertently throwing  wide  the  door  to  the  admission  of  a  thing- 
in-itself  in  but  a  slight  disguise. 

In  view  of  the  prevalence  of  such  misconceptions  of  Mill's 
position,  we  shall  take  the  liberty  of  presentfng  on  our  own  ac- 
count what  we  conceive  to  be  his  essential  contribution  to  the 
theory  of  objectivity,  together  with  our  own  reflections  upon  the 
actual  deficiencies  of  his  treatment  and  upon  the  manner  in 
which  pragmatism  is  able  both  to  remedy  these  defects  and 
greatly  to  improve  its  own  position. 

Mill's  general  problem  is  essentially  that  of  Berkeley;  namely, 
the  explanation  of  the  existence  of  sensible  things  in  psychological 
terms.  Berkeley's  solution  had  been,  as  it  will  be  remembered, 
that  sensible  things  are  a  class  of  ideas,  or  perceptions  (synony- 
mous terms  for  him) ,  and  that  accordingly  their  existnce  can  mean 


nothing  more  than  the  fact  of  their  perception  by  the  mind.     The 
ascription  of  existence  to  an  object  not  at  the  moment  perceived 
is  explained  by  Berkeley,  somewhat  uncertainly,  as  meaning 
either  its  presence  in  the  form  of  a  memory-image  of  past  sensa- 
tions, or  its  presence  to  other  minds,  or,  lastly,  its  conditional 
presence  under  other  conceivable  circumstances.     Mill,  while  ex- 
pressly avowing  himself  to  be  a  Berkeleyan,  and  accepting  the 
fundamental  Berkeleyan  presuppositions,  nevertheless  recognized 
the  serious  defect  of  this  theory  of  objectivity.     He  recognized 
that  even  from  the  psychological  standpoint  it  is  essential  to 
give  some  explanation  for  the  universally  accepted  distinction 
between  the  object  and  the  mere  perception  or  idea  of  the  object, 
even  if  the  distinction  is  not  to  be  justified  as  an  ontological 
difi^erence  between  two  orders  of  existence.     In  addition  to  the 
fact  of  the  universal  acceptance  of  this  distinction  by  common 
sense,  the  particular  consideration  that  led  Mill  to  take  this 
position  was   as  follows.     The   unifority  of   nature  is  not,  as 
Berkeley  had  expressly  asserted  it  to  be,  a  uniformity  in  the 
order  of  sensations.     No  law  of  nature  can  be  stated  in  terms  of 
sensations  as  such,  or  of  perceptions  as  such.     It  cannot  be  said, 
for  example,  that  if  we  see  a  vivid  flash  of  light  we  shall  hear 
a  heavy  rumbling  noise.     In  the  great  majority  of  such  cases, 
there  are  an  indefinite  number  of  alternative  possibilities  of 
experience.     Whether  we  hear  the  thunder  or  not,  depends  upon 
the  fulfilling  of  further,  objective  conditions,  not  definable  directly 
in  terms  of  perception.     The  uniformities  of  nature,  in  other 
words,  are  conditional  uniformities  of  a  higher  order,  and  must 
be  stated  in  terms  of  more  or  less  highly  abstract  conditions  of 
experience — that  is,  in  terms  of  things.     Thus  it  is  these  condi- 
tions of  perception,  and  not  the  perceptions  themselves,  that  are 
the  objects  of  science,  and  to  which  scientific  laws  apply. 

The  following  sharply  contrasting  passages  will  suffice  to  show 
Mill's  divergence  from  Berkeley  in  thi  matter.  Berkeley  writes : 
"The  ideas  of  Sense  .  .  .  have  likewise  a  steadiness,  order,  and 
coherence,  and  are  not  excited  at  random,  as  those  which  are 


.1^ 


I 


e?^H9 


176 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


the  effects  of  human  wills  often  are,  but  in  a  regular  train  or 
series,  the  admirable  connection  whereof  sufficiently  testifies  the 
wisdJm  and  benevolence  of  its  Author.     Now  the  set  rules  or 
established  methods  wherein  the  Mind  we  depend  on  excites  in 
us  the  ideas  of  sense,  are  called  the  laws  of  nature;  and  these  we 
learn  by  experience,  which  teaches  us  that  such  and  such  ideas 
are  attended  with  such  and  such  other  ideas,  in  the  ordinary 
course  of  things."^     Mill,  discussing  the  same  subject,  writes: 
*'Now,  of  what  nature  is  this  fixed  order  among  our  sensations? 
It  is  a  constancy  of  antecedence  and  sequence.     But  the  constant 
antecedence  and  sequence  do  not  generally  exist  between  one 
actual  sensation  and  another.     Very  few  such  sequences  are 
presented  to  us  by  experience.     In  almost  all  the  constant  se- 
quences which  occur  in  Nature,  the  antecedence  and  sequence 
do  not  obtain  between  sensations,  but  between  the  groups  we 
have  been  speaking  about,  of  which  a  very  small  portion  is 
actual  sensation,  the  greater  part  being  permanent  possibilities 
of  sensation,  evidenced  to  us  by  a  small  and  variable  number 
of  sensations  actually  present."^ 

The  solution  which  Mill  has  to  offer  to  this  important  problem, 
so  underestimated  by  Berkeley— his  psychological  theory  of  the 
nature  of  objectivity— is  anticipated  in  the  passage  just  quoted. 
This  theory  is,  in  brief,  that  external  things  are  not  to  be  identified 
as  a  class  of  complex  ideas;  but  that  they  are  groups  of  possible, 
as  opposed  to  actual,  sensations.     Just  what  Mill  meant  by  the 
famous   phrase,    "permanent   possibilities   of  sensation,"    it   is 
essential  to  be  at  some  pains  to  discover.     In  the  case  of  direct 
perception,  the  actual  sensations  form  but  a  small  part  of  the 
object  as  experienced.     As  Mill  says:  "What  we  see  is  a  very 
minute  fragment  of  what  we  think  we  see."     In  addition  to  the 
sensations  actually  present  to  consciousness,  there  are  associated 
a  whole  group  of  other  possible  sensations,  some  of  which  a  more 
careful  attention  would  serve  to  make  actual,  others  of  which 
would  enter  the  field  of  consciousness  by  a  slight  shift  of  bodily 

^Principles  of  Human  Knowledge,  §  30. 

^Examination  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  6th  ed..  Ch.  XI,  p.  230. 


MILL'S   THEORY   OF   OBJECTIVITY 


177 


position,  etc.  The  perceived  object,  that  is  to  say,  is  determined 
to  a  greater  extent  by  the  associations  which  the  given  sensations 
have  with  other  merely  possible  sensations,  than  it  is  by  the 
actually  given  sensations  themselves.  And,  in  fact,  the  existing 
sensations  enter  into  the  perception  of  the  given  object,  not 
through  the  mere  fact  of  their  actual  presence  in  consciousness, 
but  by  reason  of  their  association  with  the  whole  group  of  possible 
sensations  which  make  up  the  object. 

But  directly  perceived  objects  form  but  a  small  part,  again,  of 
the  world  of  objects  which  we  believe  at  any  moment  to  exist, 
and  which  we  constantly  think  of  as  existing— the  world  which 
forms  the  persistent  background  of  our  immediately  given  exper- 
iences.    If  we  analyze  what  we  mean  by  the  existence  of  an 
object  not  actually  perceived,  a  precisely  similar  result  is  reached, 
namely,  that  it  is  nothing  more  than  a  group  of  possibilities  of 
sensation  under  specific  conditions.     Indeed,  whether  the  object 
is  perceived  or  not,  it  is  this  group  of  definitely  connected  pos- 
sibilities of  sensation  that  constitutes  its  objectivity  as  over  against 
the  subjectivity  of  the  transient  and  variable  actual  sensations. 
It  is  true  that  there  would  be  no  group  of  possible  sensations- 
no  object  would  exist— if  it  were  not  for  the  actual  experiences 
of  the  past  and  of  the  present;  and  yet,  it  is  the  possibilities  that 
are  relatively  permanent  and  unchanging,  while  the  actual  sensa- 
tions are  fleeting  and  changeable. 

Mill's  theory  is  thus  seen  to  make  a  great  advance  over  that 
of  Berkeley,  in  that  the  object  is  no  longer  itself  a  kind  of  idea- 
It  is  not,  in  other  words,  a  state  of  consciousness.  In  relation 
to  such  states,  the  existence  of  the  object  may  be  described 
as  ideal.  But  Mill  is  still  a  Berkeleyan  in  that  the  object  is  ex- 
plained in  terms  of  ideas,  or,  strictly  speaking,  of  sensations.  ^  Its 
existence  as  something  independent  of  conscious  minds  is  as 
meaningless  to  him  as  it  was  to  Berkeley.  Moreover,  the  object, 
as  compared  with  the  elements  of  consciousness,  is  merely  deriy- 
tive;  it  is,  in  a  sense,  an  artificial  product.  The  fact  that  it  is 
regarded  by  common  sense  as  possessing  a  reality  superior  to 

13 


M 


.  -til 

i 


178 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


that  of  ideas,  is  an  illusion  to  be  explained  psychologically;  but 
such  explanation  in  no  wise  constitutes  a  justification  of  such  an 

interpretation. 

Some  of  the  causes  to  which  Mill  attributes  the  growth  of  this 
illusion,  we  have  already  mentioned.     That  is  to  say,  experience, 
through  the  operation  of  the  laws  of  association,  once  having 
given  rise  to  the  idea  of  groups  of  possibilities  of  sensation,  these 
groups  come  to  be  thought  of  as  permanent,  and  as  persisting 
relatively  unchanged  while  our  actual  experiences  are  constantly 
changing.    They  are  naturally  regarded,  therefore,  as,  in  a  sense, 
independent  of  ourselves.     In  the  second  place,  the  groups  of 
possible  sensations  are  not  realized  by  ourselves  alone ;  but  they 
are  objects  of  common  experience  in  a  way  in  which  the  sensations 
themselves  are  not.      Under  the  same  conditions,   others  have 
experiences  similar  to  ours.     It  is  not  so  much  that  the  sensations 
compared  one  to  one  are  precisely  similar,  but  that  they  exhibit 
the  same  uniformities  of  antecedence  and  sequence.     It  is  then 
the  groups  of  possibilities— the  conditional  certainties— that  are 
constantly  verified  by  our  intercourse  with  others.     Moreover, 
as  we  must  not  forget  to  recall,  the  object  is  given  a  place  in  its 
system  independent  of  our  subjective  sensations  and  feelings,  not 
simply  because  it  is  accessible  to  other  men,  but  because  to  it 
the  universal  laws  of  nature  apply.     Finally,  what  serves  to 
complete  the  emancipation  of  the  object  is  the  inevitable  tendency 
to  regard  it  as  bearing  a  causal  relation  to  our  sensations.     For 
the  actual  sensations  we  feel  are  indubitable  evidence  to  our 
minds  of  the  presence  of  some  group  of  possibilities  of  sensation ; 
and  these  possibilities  are  held  to  have  been  equally  possibilities, 
whether  the  conditions  of  their  realization  in  actual  experience 
were  fulfilled  or  not— that  is,  the  object  is  regarded  as  necessarily 
existing  prior  to  our  perception  of  it,  which  is  precisely  the  con- 
dition for  the  ascription  of  the  causal  relation.^    There  is  but  one 

iMill's  treatment  involves  likewise  an  important  modification  of  Hume's  theory 
of  causality.  For  just  as  the  uniformities  of  nature  hold,  not  of  the  antecedence 
and  sequence  of  sensations,  but  of  the  antecedence  and  sequence  of  possibilities  of 
sensation,  so  the  causal  connection  applies,  not  to  the  sensations  in  their  relation 
to  each  other,  but  to  objects. 


MILL'S   THEORY   OF  OBJECTIVITY 


179 


step  more  needed  to  account  for  the  belief  in  the  existence  of  an 
external  world  as  a  realm  of  being  wholly  independent  of  ex- 
perience— that  is,  for  the  rise  of  ontological  dualism.  This  step 
is  taken,  when  we  recognize  the  tendency  of  the  mind  to  generalize 
illegitimately  by  applying  to  a  whole  class  of  things  what  holds 
of  each  member  of  the  class  considered  separately.  Thus,  be- 
cause each  group  of  possibilities  possesses  a  certain  independence 
with  reference  to  the  actual  realization  of  any  of  the  particular 
possibilities  that  constitute  it,  considered  singly,  the  group  comes 
to  be  regarded  as  absolutely  independent  of  any  actual  experience 
whatever — an  inference  which  is,  of  course,  wholly  unwarranted. 
The  same  thing  may  be  otherwise  expressed  by  saying  that  the 
ideal  character  of  the  object  is  forgotten,  and  it  is  accounted  as 
possessing  in  itself  a  reality  properly  ascribable  (according  to 
Mill's  presuppositions)  only  to  the  sensation  as  such. 

Let  us  now  pass  to  the  consideration  of  the  more  common 
criticisms  of  Mill's  position.  First,  there  is  the  charge,  that  the 
theory  logically  commits  Mill  to  a  form  of  realism.  One  cannot 
stop,  it  is  argued,  with  the  statement,  that  the  object  is  a  possi- 
bility of  sensation.  There  can  be  no  such  thing  as  a  mere  possi- 
bility, for  every  real  possibility  must  have  a  basis  in  actuality. 
For  the  object  to  be  a  permanent  possibility  of  sensation,  it 
must  exist  as  actual  in  some  form.  The  phrase  may  be  an 
adequate  description  of  what  the  object  is  known  as;  but,  if  it  is 
anything  more  than  a  mere  idea,  it  must  exist  as  something 
actual,  even  though  the  nature  of  that  actuality  be  inscrutable 
to  us.  The  dilemma  is  perfect.  If  the  object  has  a  permanent 
existence,  it  cannot  be  reduced  to  an  idea,  for  all  ideas  are  m- 
permanent.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  a  real  possibility,  it 
must  exist  as  an  actuality;  but  the  only  actualities  that  Mill 
admits  are  ideas. 

That  this  criticism  is  based  upon  a  misunderstanding  of  Mill's 
real  position  will,  we  believe,  be  evident  upon  consideration. 
It  seems  to  rest  upon  a  certain  confusion  in  regard  to  the  meaning 
of  the  term  'possibility.'     This  is  a  word  that  is  commonly  used 


I 


I 


m 


i8o 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


MILL'S   THEORY   OF   OBJECTIVITY 


l8l 


in  various  senses  which  are  by  no  means  always  kept  distinct. 
First  it  is  used  to  signify  an  incompleteness  of  knowledge  about 
a  particular  event,  as  when  it  is  said  that  a  certain  imagined 
future  event  is  a  possibility  but  not  a  certainty.     This  is  equiva- 
lent to  saying  that  so  far  as  is  known  the  event  may  or  may  not 
happen.     This  obviously  is  not  the  sense  in  which  Mill  employs 
the  term,  nor  does  the  criticism  with  which  we  are  concerned 
imply  any  such  understanding  of  it.     Secondly,  the  term  is  ap- 
plied to  what  is  regarded  as  the  essential  condition  of  the  future 
existence  of  a  thing.     Thus  the  egg  is,  or  contains,  the  possibil- 
ity of  the  chick;  that  is,  the  existence  of  the  egg,  although  not 
sufficient  to  determine  the  future  existence  of  the  chick,  is  never- 
theless regarded  as  the  essential  condition  of  the  chick's  being. 
Hence,  if  one  were  to  assert  that  the  chick's  existence  is  a  real 
possibility,  such  an  assertion  must  owe  its  truth  to  the  actual 
existence  of  the  egg-the  possibility  in  other  words,  must  exist 
as  an  actuality.     Now  it  is  this  sense  of  the  term  'possibility' 
which  Mill's  critic  evidently  has  in  mind,  when  he  contends  that 
the  phrase,  'permanent  possibility  of  sensation,'  may  express  all 
that  we  know  of  the  nature  of  the  object,  but  that  it  must 
nevertheless  exist  as  an  unknown  or  even  unknowable  actuality. 
But  is  it  in  precisely  this  sense  that  Mill  uses  'possibility'?     Let 
us  take  the  case  of  the  object  that  is  directly  perceived,  and  ask 
what  Mill  conceives  this  present  object  to  be.     Obviously  its 
present  existence  is  rfot  the  actual  sensations  we  are  having;  the 
object,  even  when  directly  perceived,  is  still  the  possibility  of  a 
group  of  sensations.     Mill's  statement,  that  the  object  is  the 
possibility  of  sensation,  is  not  analogous  to  the  statement,  that 
the  egg  is  the  possibility  of  the  chick;  for  in  the  latter  case  the 
egg  is  an  existent  of  the  same  order  as  the  chick.     In  the  former 
case,  on  the  contrary,  the  object  is  not  an  existent  of  the  same 
order  as  is  the  sensation— it  is,  as  we  remarked  before,  ideal  with 
reference  to  the  sensation,  which  is  real.     There  is,  indeed,  an 
actuality  which  corresponds  to  the  possibility  of  the  group  of 
sensations;  namely,  the  present  sense-experience,  whatever  it 


may  be,  or  perhaps  the  memory  of  certain  past  sensations.  A 
world  of  mere  possibilities,  however  complexly  interconnected, 
would  be  a  shadow.  It  is  the  givenness  of  the  present  or  re- 
membered sensation  that  communicates  substance,  first  to  the 
objects  of  present  and  past  perception,  and  then  to  the  whole 
universe  in  which  they  have  their  place.  The  theory  is  very 
similar  to  Kant's.  "For  everything  is  actual  that  hangs  to- 
gether with  a  sense-perception  according  to  laws  of  the  empiric 
progress.  They  [the  men  in  the  moon]  are  real,  if  they  stand  in 
an  empirical  connection  with  my  actual  consciousness,  although 
they  are  not  on  that  account  actual  by  themselves,  i.  e.,  apart 
from  this  progress  of  experience."^ 

A  second  criticism  frequently  met  with  is  one  which  seems  to 
start  from  an  interpretation  similar  to  the  one  just  urged  by  us 
in  Mill's  defense.  Briefly  stated,  it  is  that  Mill's  admission  of 
possibilities  of  sensation  as  something  over  and  above  the  sensa- 
tions themselves,  logically  commits  him  (although  he  fails  to 
recognize  the  fact)  to  what  is  substantially  Kantianism — that  is, 
to  the  assumption  of  an  a  priori  form  of  thought.  But  this 
criticism  too  seems,  upon  consideration,  to  be  unjustified.  There 
is,  indeed,  a  striking  resemblance — as  we  have  illustrated  above 
—between  Mill's  doctrine  and  that  of  Kant.  But  the  differences 
are  equally  striking;  for  the  forms  of  connection  which  Mill  con- 
siders are  not  a  priori  but  a  posteriori.  In  the  first  place,  they 
are  not  intuitively  known  and  assured,  as  are  Kant's  a  priori 
princip  es;  but  they  are  discovered  empirically,  and  often,  as  in 
the  case  of  objectivity,  only  by  careful  and  difficult  psychological 
analysis.  Moreover,  it  can  never  be  asserted  that  a  given  de- 
scription of  any  form  of  connection  is  adequate  or  final.  It  is 
always  open  to  correction  and  modification.  In  the  second  place, 
not  only  must  the  ascertainment  of  existing  forms  of  connection 
be  wholly  empirical,  but  the  forms  themselves  Mill  conceives 
to  have  arisen  and  to  be  modified  in  the  course  of  experience. 
In  fact,  it  is  only  by  tracing  their  psychological  origin  and  de- 

^Critique  of  Pure  Reason;   The  Antinomy  of  Pure  Reason,  Section  6. 


l82 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


velopment  that  their  nature  can  be  defined.     A  better  illustration 
of  Mill's  theory  than  any  which  he  himself  gives  may  perhaps 
be  found  in  the  forms  of  musical  composition — except  that  it 
may  suggest  too  forcibly  the  social  factor  in  psychological  de- 
velopment, of  which  he  took  but  little  account.     These  forms 
have  formerly  been  supposed  to  be  a  priori  with  respect  to  musical 
experience;  universally  valid  for  all  mankind,  and,  while  perhaps 
only  gradually  arising  to  self-consciousness  in  the  individual, 
nevertheless  operative  in  moulding  his  whole  perception  of  melody 
and  harmony  from  the  outset.     As  thus  conceived,  they  furnish 
a  striking  analogy  to  the  Kantian  forms  of  experience  in  general. 
It  is  now  commonly  admitted  that  musical  forms  are,  both  in 
the  individual  and  in  society,  a  product  of  evolution,  and  that 
this  evolution  is  still  in  progress,  although  to  the  modern  man 
they  may  appear  to  be  as  absolute  as  the  law  of  gravitation. 
The  musical  forms  are  then  typical  of  all  the  forms  of  experience 
which  Mill  admits.     If  it  be  asked,  whether  music  has  not  an 
a  priori  basis  in  the  sense  of  generic  characteristics  of  tonal  per- 
ception, by  which  the  whole  evolution  of  the  forms  has  been 
conditioned,  the  disciple  of  Mill  may  well  answer  in  the  affirma- 
tive.    But  such  characteristics  of  the  perception  are  nothing  more 
than  empirically  discovered  psychological  uniformities.    And  in 
precisely  similar  fashion  he  can  admit  no  other  basis  for  the 
forms  of  experience  in  general  than  psychological  laws. 

Our  own  criticism  of  Mill  strikes  deeper,  as  we  think.  It  is 
the  dogmatic  presuppositions  of  his  theory  that  we  would  call 
in  question.  His  departure  is  from  the  simple  elements  of  sensa- 
tion and  imagination,  held  together  by  various  modes  of  'external' 
association  (which  do  not  affect  the  character  of  the  elements 
connected).  To  these  he  adds  memory  and  expectation,  which 
are  'real'  connections,  through  which  a  present  state  of  conscious- 
ness involves  in  itself  a  belief  in  the  past  or  future  existence  of 
another  state,  with  which  the  former  is  in  some  wise  continuous. 
But  he  is  so  far  from  attempting  to  reconcile  the  existence  of 
these  'real*  connections  with  the  simplicity  and  independence  of 


MILL'S   THEORY   OF   OBJECTIVITY 


183 


the  conscious  elements,  that  he  sets  them  down  as  a  final  in- 
explicability.^  Mill  is  not  only  a  dogmatist;  he  is  a  dogmatist 
who  clings  to  his  faith  despite  what  is  to  him  its  manifest  in- 
sufficiency. It  is  not  as  if  he  simply  accepted  sensation  and 
memory  as  equally  fundamental  facts.  Sensation  he  accepts  as  a 
fact.     Memory  he  accepts  as  an  utterly  incomprehensible  fact. 

Accordingly,  for  Mill  the  real  is,  first,  the  sensation,  and, 
secondly,  the  remembered  or  expected  sensation.  From  both  of 
these  must  be  distinguished  the  (not  actually,  but)  conditionally 
expected  sensation,  that  is  to  say,  the  possible  sensation.  The 
possible  sensation  is  not,  as  such,  real,  though  it  may  become 
real.  But,  while  not  real,  it  has,  as  merely  possible,  a  perma- 
nence, which  the  real,  as  real,  has  not.  Objects  are  groups  of 
possible  sensations,  or  possibilities  of  sensation;  the  terms  are 
not  carefully  distinguished. 

Objects  are  not  real,  though  some  elements  of  them  may  from 
time  to  time  acquire  and  lose  reality.  If  the  popular,  and  even 
the  scientific,  consciousness  regard  the  object  as  real,  and  even 
as  more  real  than  present  sensations,  that  is  a  delusion  which 
can  be  satisfactorily  accounted  for.  The  possibilities  of  sensa- 
tion are  relatively  permanent ;  they  exhibit  extensive  uniformities 
of  succession ;  and  they  are  cognizable  by  men  in  general.  Hence 
their  supposed  reality. 

Now  suppose  that,  instead  of  regarding  the  sensation  as  a 
given  element  of  reality,  we  treat  it  as  a  scientific  construct,  an 
hypothesis,  by  means  of  which  the  experienced  reality  is  to  be 
in  some  measure  analyzed  and  explained — no  more  given,  no 
more  open  to  direct  observation,  than  the  atom.  How  would 
our  attitude  toward  Mill's  theory  be  affected?  The  question  is 
not  an  idle  one,  as  the  position  thus  described  is  that  commonly 
held  by  psychologists  today.  When  we  turn  aside  from  dogmatic 
presuppositions,  and  ask  ourselves  how  anything  is  ever  per- 
ceived by  us  as  real,  it  becomes  obvious  that  nothing  is  ever  so 
perceived  except  in  implied  connection  with  a  not-perceived, 

*More  precisely,  memory  is  assumed  as  inexplicable,  while  expectation  is  sup- 
posed to  be  explicable  in  terms  of  memory. 


'I 


ufi 


i84 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


within  which  connections  are  likewise  supposed  to  exist.     The 
present  sensation  is  never  identified  by  us  with  the  real ;  or  if 
for  a  moment  we  are  tempted  to  make  the  identification  we  are 
forced,  like  the  ancient  atomist,  to  turn  upon  ourselves  with 
the  admission,  that  the  not-real  is  just  as  real  as  the  real.     We 
must,  then,  radically  reinterpret  Mill's  explanation  of  the  general 
conviction,  that  the  permanent  possibilities  of  sensation  are  more 
real  than  the  sensations  we  actually  experience.     What  he  re- 
gards as  a  psychological  account  of  the  sources  of  the  conviction 
must  be  construed  as  a  partial  logical  analysis  of  the  meaning  of 
reality,  as  implying  on  the  one  hand  the  series  of  given  sensations, 
and  on  the  other  hand  the  connections  between  sensations,  given 
or  not  given.     That  objects  are  relatively  permanent,  generally 
verifiable,  and  subject  to  universal  laws,  makes  them  'more  real' 
(i.  e.,  more  concrete)  than  the  momentarily  given  sensation- 
complex,  just  as  truly  as  the  givenness  of  the  sensation-complex 
makes  it  more  real  than  other  merely  possible  complexes.     If  the 
object  with  its  inexhaustible  possibilities  is  ideal  in  comparison 
with  the  conscious  presence  of  the  perception,  the  perception  is 
subjective  in  comparison  with  the  permanence  and  universality 

of  the  object. 

Whether  or  not  Mill  is  right  in  holding  that  the  phenomenon  of 
memory  cannot  be  explained  in  terms  of  association,  we  do  not 
stop  to  inquire.  Our  thesis  is  the  more  general  one,  that  'real 
connections'  are  as  essential  to  the  realities  of  experience  as  are 
the  elements  connected.  Possible  sensations  are  merely  possible, 
to  be  sure.  But  possibilities  of  sensation,  in  the  sense  of  more  or 
less  permanent  connections  of  antecedence  and  consequence,  in 
which  the  series  of  our  actual  sensations  has  its  place,  are  not 
merely  possible  but  real— or,  if  they  be  not  real,  our  experience 
is  a  dream  within  a  dream. 

If  our  criticism  is  well-founded,  Mill,  in  his  theory  of  permanent 
possibilities  of  sensation  has  accomplished  far  more  than  he 
dreamed  of  attempting.  His  refutation  of  Berkeley  appears  to 
us  to  be  definitive.     But,  more  than  that,  he  has  given  to  empiri- 


MILL'S   THEORY   OF   OBJECTIVITY 


185 


cism  the  means  of  an  effective  synthesis  of  realism  and  subjec- 
tive idealism,  in  which  the  claims  and  the  limitations  of  both 
are  duly  recognized. 

What  has  all  this  to  do  with  pragmatism?  In  the  first  place, 
it  is  to  be  observed  that  the  pragmatist  theory  of  the  relation  of 
thought  to  conduct  casts  a  wholly  new  light  upon  Mill's  analysis 
of  objectivity.  Permanence,  uniformity,  accessibility — the  fac- 
tors may  seem  at  first  blush  to  have  nothing  in  common  and  to 
form  a  merely  accidental  combination.  But  for  the  intelligent 
guidance  of  conduct  what  can  be  more  necessary  than  an  en- 
vironment thus  characterized?  It  is  the  condition,  not  simply 
of  success,  but  of  reasonable  endeavor.  In  so  far  as  the  world 
is  not  of  this  character,  our  struggles  are  vain. 

In  the  second  place.  Mill's  theory  offers  an  alternative  to  the 
immediatism,^  with  which  pragmatism  has  hitherto  been  bound 
up.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  pragmatism,  as  presented  by  its 
chief  advocates,  is  subject  to  a  limitation  which  the  evidences 
drawn  from  functional  psychology  seem  hardly  to  warrant- 
namely,  its  inapplicability  to  perception.  According  to  these 
writers,  the  percept  is  neither  true  nor  false:  it  is  a  fact.  It 
represents  nothing  beyond  itself,  with  which  it  might  stand  in 
agreement  or  disagreement.  Ideas,  on  the  contrary,  are  repre- 
sentatives. The  idea  of  a  sensible  thing  may,  for  example,  be  a 
copy  of  the  thing.  But  the  percept  (i.  e.,  the  thing  as  perceived) 
is  the  thing.  In  this  identity,  there  is  no  scope  for  representation, 
whether  true  or  false.     A  thing  cannot  agree  with  itself. 

This  view  is  included  in  the  theory  of  immediatism,  the  general 
discussion  of  which  we  cannot  undertake  here.  At  the  same 
time  it  stands  in  a  very  close  relation  to  the  loosely-styled  sub- 
jective idealism  of  David  Hume.  Hume,  it  will  be  remembered, 
found  that  the  belief  in  the  continued  existence  of  our  impressions 
of  s  nsation  was  instinctive  and  ineradicable,  and  was  an  indis- 
pensable postulate  of  science;  while  at  the  same  time  he  con- 

»Cf.  Appendix  I,  pp.  231  ff.  and  Appendix  II. 


i^l 


i 


1 


1 86 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


demned  the  belief  as  wholly  irrational.  The  pragmatists  have 
affirmed  a  sort  of  converse  of  this — or  perhaps  we  should  rather 
say,  the  same  doctrine  expressed  in  objective  instead  of  subjective 
terms — with  the  sceptical  afterthoughts  omitted.  If  the  percept 
and  the  object  are  identical,  what  difference  is  there  between 
saying  that  the  percept  (i.  e.y  the  impression  of  sensation)  exists 
while  it  is  not  perceived,  and  saying  that  the  object  is  directly 
present  in  the  perceptive  consciousness.  In  a  former  chapter 
we  mentioned  one  inconvenience  of  Hume's  theory,  which  at- 
taches with  equal  force  to  the  pragmatist  restatement:  namely, 
that  a  supposedly  unchanged  object  must  be  successively  identi- 
fied with  very  different  percepts.  In  the  preceding  pages  we 
have  given  an  account  of  the  difficulties  raised  by  John  Stuart 
Mill — difficulties  which  seem  to  us  to  be  wholly  fatal  to  the 
theory.  Here  we  wish  to  point  out  that  the  percept  may  be 
quite  as  truly  representative  as  the  idea,  and  representative  in 
substantially  the  same  fashion. 

Just  a  word  as  to  resemblance.  It  is  true  that  an  idea  may 
resemble  a  certain  percept,  but  only  as  one  percept  may  resemble 
another — as  the  aria  heard  in  the  gallery  resembles  the  aria 
heard  in  the  front  rows  of  the  pit,  or  as  the  landscape  at  dusk 
resembles  the  landscape  at  midday.  Moreover,  upon  the  score 
of  resemblance,  an  idea  is  no  more  open  to  qualification  as  false 
or  true  than  a  percept ;  for,  if  the  idea  may  (by  later  reflection) 
be  subjected  to  comparison  with  the  percept,  so  also  may  the 
percept  be  subjected  to  comparison  with  a  percept  (or  idea) 
regarded  as  a  yet  better  standard. 

We  say  that  if  the  pragmatist  theory  of  meaning  applies  to 
the  idea,  it  must  equally  apply  to  the  percept.  A  fortiori  it 
must.  For  on  the  lower  levels  of  animal  life  the  conscious  control 
of  conduct  must  be  almost  entirely  vested  in  the  sense-impressions 
of  the  moment,  imagination  reaching  no  farther  forward  than  to 
the  immediate  consequences  of  the  act  to  be  performed.  And 
when,  with  the  progress  of  intelligence,  the  control  exerted  by 
perception  is  more  and  more  largely  supplemented  by  centrally 


MILL'S   THEORY   OF   OBJECTIVITY. 


187 


aroused  processes,  no  new  mode  of  exerting  it  is  introduced.  It  is 
true  that  in  the  guidance  of  overt  conduct  the  percept  remains 
(except,  perhaps,  in  abnormal  cases)  an  essential  factor.  Control 
by  'mere  ideas'  is  lunacy.  It  is  true  also,  that  the  percept  makes, 
in  general,  a  more  forcible  appeal  to  the  emotions  than  does  the 
idea.  The  sight  of  the  proffered  coin  is  a  powerful  inducement 
to  the  hesitating  vendor.  But  these  admissions  do  not  touch 
the  heart  of  the  matter.  As  from  the  structural  standpoint  there 
is  no  fundamental  difference  between  percept  and  idea — simply 
a  difference  in  the  proportion  of  externally  and  centrally  excited 
elements — so  from  the  functional  standpoint  there  is  no  funda- 
mental difference  in  the  mode  of  control  which  they  exercise  upon 
conduct. 

Is  it  possible  that  the  disagreement  here  indicated  is  merely 
verbal?  We  think  not.  Mr.  James  has  described  the  "kind  of 
knowledge  called  perception"  as  one  in  which  the  knower  and 
the  known  are  "the  self-same  piece  of  experience  taken  twice 
over  in  different  contexts."^  True,  perception  does  not  mean  for 
him  necessarily  the  perception  of  things  as  things,  i,  e.,  as  having 
an  existence  beyond  the  moment  of  their  presence  in  conscious- 
ness. This  is  a  piece  of  interpretation  for  which  a  somewhat 
extensive  previous  experience  is  necessary.  But,  if  we  under- 
stand Mr.  James  aright,  this  interpretation  is  not  supposed  to 
alter  the  nature  of  the  percept  as  such.  The  child's  earliest 
perception  was  (presumably)  a  perception  of  things — that  is  to 
say,  the  percepts  had  an  existence  beyond  the  moment  of  per- 
ception— though  the  perceiver  did  not  know  it.  This  position 
(which  is  substantially  the  same  as  Hume's)  we  believe  to  be 
clearly  false  and  to  have  been  sufficiently  refuted  by  J.  S.  Mill. 
But  we  further  hold  that,  even  if  this  position  were  correct, 
nevertheless  the  percepts  have  meaning  substantially  as  ideas 
have,  and  are  similarly  open  to  criticism  as  correct  or  incorrect. 
This  would  involve  the  paradoxical  conclusion,  that  things  are 
correct  or  incorrect — but  we  are  not  responsible  for  that. 

^The  Meaning  of  Truth,  p.  103. 


^1 


*:ii 

I'l 


:^l 


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CHAPTER   IV 

THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND   ITS  FUNCTIONS 

II.  The  General  Concept 

So  far  we  have  not  concerned  ourselves  directly  with  that 
level  of  cognitive  experience  at  which  the  concept  of  the  simple 
object  has  been  differentiated  into  the  universal  concept,  denoting 
any  member  of  a  class,  and  the  individual  concept,  denoting  a 
particular  member  of  the  class;  although  in  what  has  preceded 
we  have  had  occasion  to  refer  to  such  a  type  of  experience.  The 
earliest  objects,  like  the  earliest  sense-images,  are,  of  couise, 
neither  universal  nor  particular,  but  possess  certain  character- 
istics of  both  types.  The  fully  developed  universal  is  no  doubt 
a  product  of  a  very  late  stage  of  development,  as  is  also  the  fully 
developed  individual.  In  advance,  however,  of  a  complete  dif- 
ferentiation of  the  two,  objects  must  have  fallen  into  groups,  more 
or  less  indeterminate,  to  be  sure,  but  within  which  quasi-logical 
relations  became  established  which  bore  certain  analogies  to  the 
later  logical  relation  between  class  and  individual  member. 

This  may  be  illustrated  by  the  behavior  of  young  children. 
Very  early  there  appears  an  instinctive  recognition  of  other 
children.  The  sight  of  another  child  elicits  signs  of  interest  and 
delight,  which  the  appearance  of  adults  or  other  animals  does 
not  call  forth.  Such  behavior  >is,  of  course,  instinctive,  and 
indicates  no  more  than  that  some  distinction  is  made  between 
the  appearance  of  a  child  and  that  of  an  adult  or  animal.  More- 
over, no  distinction  is  at  first  made  between  one  child  and  another 
—any  child  calls  forth  the  response.  The  child  it  sees  on  the 
street  while  out  in  its  go-cart  meets  the  same  response  that  is 
given  to  the  neighbor's  child  who  is  a  constant  visitor,  or  even 
to  its  own  reflection  in  the  mirror.  But  very  soon,  if  the  child  is 
thrown  with  other  children,  distinctions  between  individuals  are 

i88 


THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND   ITS    FUNCTIONS    1 89 

noticeable  in  its  behavior,  and  we  have  the  beginnings  of  classifi- 
cation.    The  child  at  such  a  stage  recognizes  a  certain  resem- 
blance between  all  children,  which  it  does  not  recognize  between 
children  and  adults;  for,  in  spite  of  the  differences  in  its  behavior 
toward  individual  children,  its  attitude  toward  any  child  is  char- 
acteristically different  from  its  attitude  toward  adults.     Further- 
more, the  recognition  of  this  general  resemblance  develops  pari 
passu  with  the  recognition  of  individual  differences.     There  is 
no  grouping  of  children  together  until  particular  children  come 
to  be  distinguished.     But  that  there  is  a  grouping,  which  is 
correlative  to  the  growth  of  individual  distinctions,  seems  evident. 
As  general  conditions  for  the  formation  of  the  earliest  class 
concepts,  we  find,  first,  a  failure  to  distinguish  between  a  number 
of  objects,  which  are,  however,  distinguished  from  other  objects; 
second,  the  emergence  of  a  distinction  between  one  or  more  of 
the  objects  in  question  and  others  of  the  number,  which  is  valu- 
able for  certain  purposes  or  in  certain  situations,  while  it  still 
remains  of  advantage  to  the  individual  to  treat  them  similarly 
except  under  these  specific  conditions.     The  mere  failure  to  dis- 
tinguish between  them  must,  that  is,  be  transformed  into  a  posi- 
tive recognition  of  their  general  resemblance,  such  recognition 
being  essential  to  their  classification.    These  fundamental  con- 
ditions being  fulfilled,  the  further  development  of  the  incipient 
class  concepts  depends  upon  the  conscious  differentiation  and 
accentuation  of  this  common  character,  effected  by  the  focusing 

of  attention  upon  it. 

We  are  now  ready  to  inquire  what  relation  the  general  concept 
bears  to  the  more  primitive  concept  of  the  simple  object.  In  the 
first  place,  like  the  latter  it  is  an  organization  of  associations, 
actual  or  potential,  and  not  a  particular  process.  In  other  words 
we  have  here  to  draw  the  same  distinction  between  the  general 
concept  and  its  psychological  representative,  the  idea,  that  we 
found  necessary  in  the  case  of  the  simple  object.  If,  however, 
we  compare  the  organization  constituting  the  general  concept 
with  that  which  constitutes  the  concept  of  the  s'mple  object, 


'I 


'I 


*  * 


I 


J 


190 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


we  find  a  characteristic  difference.  The  concept  of  the  simple 
object  is  an  organization  of  various  conditional  possibilities  of 
experience  which  have  become  associated  by  virtue  of  their  direct 
functional  relation  to  each  other.  In  the  general  concept,  how- 
ever, we  find  an  altered  state  of  affairs.  While  the  members  of 
this  organization  exhibit,  indeed,  a  type  of  internal  relationship 
similar  to  that  subsisting  in  the  concept  of  the  simple  object,  a 
modification  of  structure  has  taken  place  under  the  operation 
of  what  has  traditionally  been  called  'association  by  similarity.*^ 
The  system  is  based,  not  simply  upon  the  direct  functional  rela- 
tion of  the  associated  experiences  to  each  other,  but  upon  the 
common  significance  for  conduct  of  a  variety  of  objects.  What 
may  be  called  potential  resemblances  between  objects  become 
actual,  and  general  concepts  of  them  are  formed,  only  when  some 
interest  attaches  to  the  recognition  of  these  resemblances  and 
attention  is  directed  toward  them. 

If  these  observations  are  correct,  it  would  follow  that  the 
earliest  general  concepts  must  be  based,  not  upon  specific  and 
definite  similarities  between  objects,  but  upon  relatively  massive 
and  indefinite  resemblances,  such  as  would  correspond  to  the 
common  significance  for  conduct  of  the  objects  associated.  And 
this  is  what  seems  to  be  the  case  with  the  general  concepts  of 
children,  as  evidenced,  for  example,  by  their  early  attempts  at 
definition.  Thus  a  child  of  three,  when  asked :  "What  is  a  train?" 
replied:  "A  train  is  something  to  pull."  Similarly,  *'A  toy  is  to 
play  with,"  and,  "A  mamma  is  a  lady  to  take  care  of  me." 
Students  of  pedagogy  have  compiled  sets  of  definitions  given  by 
children,  which  are  similar  in  character.  In  these  instances  the 
resemblances  between  the  different  objects  belonging  to  the  class 

iThis  psychological  mechanism  has,  from  the  time  of  its  first  mention  by  Plato, 
been  regarded  as  separate  and  distinct  from  the  so-called  'association  by  contiguity'; 
and  only  in  very  recent  times  has  the  fundamental  identity  of  the  two  modes  of 
connection  become  probable.  It  must  be  admitted  that  to  the  psychologist  of 
today  'association  by  similarity'  is  rather  a  name  for  a  problem  than  a  solution. 
But  however  problematic  the  detailed  analysis  of  this  mode  of  association  may  be, 
it  has  become  evident  that  it  belongs  only  to  the  most  highly  evolved  types  of 
consciousness  and  is  probably  attributable  only  to  man  himself. 


THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND   ITS    FUNCTIONS    I9I 


are  markedly  indirect.  Thus  the  child  will  class  as  a  'train'  its 
toy  train  of  iron,  a  piece  of  wood  with  a  string  tied  to  it,  a  row  of 
blocks,  etc.  As  regards  'toy,'  the  resemblances  are  even  more 
indirect,  and  consist  rather  in  similarities  of  attitude  than  in 
likenesses  between  the  objects  considered  by  themselves.^  Nev- 
ertheless, if  the  concept  be  not  merely  artificial,  but  is  a  real 
functional  element  in  the  child's  mental  economy,  it  must  have 
content  as  well  as  import — the  different  toys  must  have  some 
common  characteristics  by  which  they  may  be  discriminated 
from  other  objects.  Thus,  for  example,  toys  are  also  things  papa 
buys  in  a  certain  well-known  store,  they  are  things  given  it  on 
festive  occasions,  things  kept  in  the  chest  over  which  it  has 
comparative  freedom  of  control;  they  are  distinctly  not  things 
mamma  buys  in  the  grocery  store,  or  things  kept  on  the  mantle- 
piece  or  the  desk,  however  attractive  these  might  be  to  play  with. 
So  much  for  the  mode  of  association  by  which  the  elements 
constituting  the  class  concept  are  related.  As  compared  with 
the  concept  of  the  simple  object,  it  is  also  to  be  noted  that  in  the 
general  concept  the  relations  to  other  concepts  are  far  more 
definite  and  constitute  a  far  more  prominent  element  in  the  struc- 
ture of  the  organization.  Indeed,  as  the  class  and  individual 
concepts  become  clearly  differentiated,  such  relations  pass  from 
a  quasi-logical  to  a  logical  form.  The  presence  of  such  true 
logical  relationships  is  clearly  evident  where  a  relatively  simple 
class  concept  has  undergone  a  further  differentiation  and  has 
developed  into  a  more  general  class  on  the  one  hand  and  a  sub- 
ordinate, relatively  specific  class  on  the  other.  We  have  such  a 
case  of  differentiation,  where  the  child's  earlier  concept  'mamma* 

^If  some  early  concepts  are  based  upon  directly  observable  sense-differences, 
these  are  found  upon  examination  to  be  no  exception  to  the  general  rule.  'Big' 
and  'little,'  'hot'  and  'cold'  have  an  import  for  the  child,  which  the  color-tones 
(for  example)  ordinarily  have  not.  It  is  not  mere  sensible  discriminability,  however 
gross,  that  calls  for  class  distinctions.  The  common  failure  among  primitive 
peoples  to  have  special  terms  for  blue  and  green  is  not  the  slightest  indication  of  an 
undeveloped  color-sense.  Children,  too,  are  usually  very  slow  in  noting  differences 
between  colors;  but  in  the  kindergarten,  where  several  of  the  occupations  require 
an  attention  to  such  differences,  children  of  bcirely  three  years  easily  acquire  an 
intelligent  mastery  of  a  dozen  color-names. 


'■I 


;■ 


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DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


-< 


' 


(within  which  are  distinguished  as  individuals  the  child's  own 
mamma  and  the  particular  mammas  of  certain  of  its  playmates) 
becomes  differentiated  into  the  more  general  concept  'lady,'  in- 
cluding all  adult  women,  and  'mamma,'  including  women  having 
children.  Where  such  development  has  occurred,  we  have  a 
true  case  of  logical  inclusion,  as  is  evidenced  in  the  former  defini- 
tion cited:  "A  mamma  is  a  lady  to  take  care  of  me"— though 
the  last  word  reveals  the  individual  significance  which  also  at- 
taches to  the  term. 

We  have  next  to  consider  the  greater  survival-value  of  the 
general  concept  as  compared  with  the  concept  of  the  simple 
object.     The  very  fact  that  the  reference  of  the  general  concept 
to  conduct  is  a  stage  more  indirect  means  that  cognitive  control 
is  at  once  more  far-reaching  and  more  delicate.     The  further 
differentiation  and  integration  which  marks  the  development  of 
the  general  concept  means  that  on  the  objective  side  the  situation 
has  undergone  a  similar  transformation.     It  has  gained  at  once 
a  far  greater  degree  of  continuity  with  other  possible  situations 
and  a  far  greater  individuality.     The  general  concept  provides  a 
far  more  efficient  instrument  for  the  analysis  of  the  situation,  and 
it  is  in  the  analysis  of  the  situation  that  the  specific  function  of 
cognition  consists.     The  increased  efficiency  of  control  manifests 
itself  in  the  modification  which  is  observable  in  the  learning-proc- 
ess.    When  a  given  course  of  conduct  fails,  the  individual  is  not 
left  to  mere  groping  in  the  dark,  but  there  are- ready  to  suggest 
themselves  more  or  less  specific  alternative  modes  of  behavior. 
The  failure  may  itself  be  classified  as  falling  within  more  or  less 
known  limits.     The  possibility  of  such  classification  arises  from 
the  fact  that  for  the  most  part  the  conduct  to  be  modified  is  at 
the  level  of  conceptual  thought— no  such  instinctive  affair  as  it 
was  formerly.     Desires,  purposes,  intentions  have  undergone  a 
process  of  evolution  correlative  to  that  which  has  taken  place 
in  cognitive  life.     Failure  of  a  given  action  results  in  no  vague 
unpleasantness;  on  the  contrary  it  is  a  failure  of  definite  expec- 
tations.    This  is  true  even  where  the  failure  attaches  to  an  habit- 


THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND    ITS   FUNCTIONS    1 93 

ual  and  relatively  automatic  act,  and  where  the  act  has  been 
undertaken  with  no  conscious  purpose.  In  such  a  case  the  ap- 
parent purposelessness  of  the  act  is  largely  a  matter  of  attention. 
Once  failure  attracts  attention  to  the  outcome,  the  potential 
purpose  of  the  act  is  at  once  recognized — the  failure,  in  other 
words,  is  in  effect  a  failure  of  definite  expectation.  This  being 
so,  it  is  at  once  attributable  to  some  more  or  less  definite  factor 
in  the  preceding  conduct.  For  it  must  be  recognized  that  this 
conduct,  however  simple  it  may  seem  if  regarded  as  a  mere 
objective  act  (for  instance  the  throwing  of  the  ball  at  a  critical 
point  in  a  baseball  game),  is  as  a  piece  of  conduct  exceedingly 
complex,  and  capable  of  many  possibilities  of  modification. 
Moreover,  where  conduct  is  controlled  by  conceptual  thought, 
it  is  never  directed  by  a  single  concept.  Just  as  the  import  of  a 
concept  is  expressible  only  in  terms  of  indirect  conditionalities 
of  conduct,  so  the  nature  of  a  given  act — its  meaning  for  the 
individual — is  expressible  only  in  terms  of  an  organized  group  of 
concepts.  Thus  the  modification  of  the  act  requisite  to  satisfy 
the  purpose  for  which  it  has  been  undertaken  involves  a  change 
in  thi^  initiatory  group  of  concepts,  the  specific  nature  of  the 
change  demanded  depending  on  the  specific  nature  of  the  failure 
in  expectation. 

A  further  advantage  o£  the  general  concept  in  the  control  of 
conduct  is  to  be  found  in  its  greater  communicability  as  compared 
with  the  concept  of  the  simple  object.  It  is  notorious  that  the 
development  of  language,  other  than  that  merely  expressive  of 
emotion,  proceeds  pari  passu  with  the  growth  of  general  concepts. 
Imagine  the  futility  of  attempting  to  communicate  the  meaning 
of  an  unclassified,  unindividualized  object,  or  the  paucity  of  a 
language  made  up  wholly  of  proper  names  and  interjections. 
Such  a  state  of  affairs  temporarily  exists  in  every  child's  life, 
when  it  is  just  beginning  to  talk.  But  obviously  where  speech 
has  progressed  no  further  than  the  mere  attaching  of  names  to 
different  objects  there  can  be  little  communication  of  meaning. 
What  makes  possible  an  effective  communication  is  an  apprecia- 


1} 


f  ' 


\. 


H- 


If 


194  DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 

ble  degree  of  organization  and  mutual  dependence  of  concepts. 
It  is  largely  the  fact  that  in  the  general  concept  the  relationship 
to  other  concepts  has  come  to  be  so  distinct  and  to  form  so 
prominent  a  part  of  the  content,  that  causes  the  development 
of  conceptual  thought  and  the  development  of  language  to  co- 
incide.   Moreover,  it  is  worth  observing  that  the  more  indirec 
a  reference  to  conduct  concepts  bear,  the  wider  is  their  range  of 
communicability.    That  is  to  say,  where  such  reference  is  com- 
paratively indirect,  communication  is  possible  between  individ- 
uals whose  experiences  are  comparatively  dissimilar;  and  on  the 
contrary,  where  concepts  are  comparatively  simple    and  refer 
n.ore  directly  to  conduct,  communication  is  limited  to  individuals 
whose  habitual  daily  experiences  differ  little.    We  may  see  th 
illustrated  on  a  large  scale  if  we  observe  the  effect  of  national 
and  racial  differences  upon  the  cosmopolitan  unity  of  the  sciences^ 
In  the  case  of  the  more  abstract  sciences,  such  as  logic  and 
mathematics,  these  differences  count  for  practically  nothing 
When  we  come  to  more  concrete  sciences,  ethics  and  politics  for 
example,  many  of  the  more  fruitful  developments  have  had  fixed 

national  boundaries.  . 

In  this  connection  it  may  be  well  to  mention  the  reciprocal 
dependence  of  thought  upon  language.    Whether  or  not  it  is 
possible  for  general  concepts  to  be  formed  in  the  absence  o 
language,  we  need  not  attempt  to  decide;  but  certainly  it  must 
be  admitted  that  no  great  development  of  conceptual  thought  can 
take  place  without  the  aid  of  language.     In  general  the  advan- 
tages of  language  for  the  formation  of  general  -ncepts  are  o 
two  sorts.     First,  there  is  the  important  and  evd-"* Jact   tha 
it  is  the  instrument  of  communication.     It  would  be  difficult 
to  exaggerate  the  influence  of  social  intercourse  in  facilitating 
the  formation  and  development  of  general  concepts.     It  at  once 
fixes  and  corrects  old  concepts  and  suggests  new  ones.    We  have 
but  to  reflect  that  all  science,  literature,  and  art  are  social  prod- 
ucts, to  realize  the  part  played  by  social  intercourse   m   our 
cognitive  life.    Secondly,  the  mere  fact  that  a  specific  verbal 


THE    DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND    ITS    FUNCTIONS    I95 

symbol  comes  to  be  attached  to  a  given  concept  operates  power- 
fully in  rendering  the  concept  fixed  and  definite.  What  fre- 
quently happens  is  that  some  image  of  the  word  (visual,  auditory, 
or  motor)  becomes  the  habitual  psychological  representative 
through  which  the  concept  functions.  The  word  serves  thus  as 
a  sort  of  nucleus  for  the  larger  and  looser  associative  organization, 
and  thus  furthers  the  conservation  of  the  concept. 


No  modern  treatment  of  the  nature  of  the  general  concept  can 
afford  to  neglect  Berkeley's  epoch-making  theory.  Nowhere  in 
Berkeley's  writings  is  there  to  be  found  a  more  brilliant  or  effec- 
tive application  of  his  new-found  introspective  method  than  his 
treatment  of  abstract  ideas.  Not  only  did  this  treatment  revolu- 
tionize contemporary  theories,  but  it  has  exerted  a  profound 
influence  on  the  whole  later  development  of  psychology. 

The  gist  of  Berkeley's  account  of  the  matter  is  contained  in  the 
following  passage.  "Now,  if  we  will  annex  a  meaning  to  our 
words,  and  speak  only  of  what  we  can  conceive,  I  believe 
we  shall  acknowledge  that  an  idea  which,  considered  in  itself, 
is  particular,  becomes  general  by  being  made  to  represent  or 
stand  for  all  other  particular  ideas  of  the  same  sort.  To  make 
this  plain  by  an  example,  suppose  a  geometrician  is  demonstrating 
the  method  of  cutting  a  line  in  two  equal  parts.  He  draws, 
for  instance,  a  black  line  of  an  inch  in  length:  this,  which  in 
itself  is  a  particular  line,  is  nevertheless  with  regard  to  its  signifi- 
cation general,  since,  as  it  is  there  used,  it  represents  all  particular 
lines  whatsoever;  so  that  what  is  demonstrated  of  it  is  demon- 
strated of  all  lines,  or,  in  other  words,  of  a  line  in  general. "^ 
In  a  closely  succeeding  passage,  Berkeley  notes  that  a  particular 
idea  which  acquires  the  function  of  standing  for  a  class  of  ideas 
undergoes  structural  modification  to  this  extent:  that  those  fea- 
tures which  it  has  in  common  with  the  other  members  of  the 
class  are  emphasized  or  alone  attended  to,  although  its  peculiar 
features  cannot  be  wholly  banished  from  consciousness.^ 

^Principles  of  Human  Knowledge,  Introduction,  §  12. 
Ub.,  §  16. 


I; 

•I 


'^; 


n 


r- 

1 
t 


196  DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 

Berkeley's  theory  is  further  amplified  by  Hume  "PO"  ^-° J^ 
nortant  points;  first,  with  respect  to  the  part  played  by  language 
in  making  po  sible  the  function  of  general  ideas,  and,  secondly 
with  respect  to  the  part  played  by  'custom'  or  assoc.at.on  m  the 
Tutt  on  of  representation.    Upon  the  latter  point,  Hume  remarks 
ha    representation  implies  a  certain  snUuei  ieniency  to  rn^al 
uch  that  where  the  representative  idea  is  used  m  a  connec   on  .n 
which  its  peculiarities  make  it  no  longer  typical  of  the  class,  the 
Tendency  s'hows  itself  by  the  replacement  of  the  un^t  repre^^^^^^^^ 
tive  by  a  more  appropriate  member  of  the  class.    With  regard  to 
the  part  played  by  language,  Hume  commits  himself  to  the 
ex  rem    vL!  that  it  is  absolutely  essential.    The  association  is 
Tot  s^  much  between  the  various  ideas  of  the  class,  as  between 
L^Mdea  and  the  identical  term  which  denotes  them  all     M^k.n 
allowance  for  this  exaggeration,  we  must  acknowledge  that  Hume 
strengthens  the  Berkeleyan  theory-  in  no  small  degree     On  the 
other  Land,  he  fails  to  notice  the  structural  modification  o   the 
representative  idea  to  which  Berekley  calls  attention-most  clear- 
r-may  observe,  in  the  latest  (X734)  edition  of  the  Pnncrple^ 
wWch  Hume  may  easily  not  have  seen  while  working  upon  this 

part  of  his  Treatise.  .  o^rtplev 

Regarding  the  mutually  complementary  theories  of  Berkeley 
and  Hume  as  substantially  one.  we  find  ourselves  in  fundamental 
Agreement  upon  the  following  points:  that  ideas  connected  by  a 
Xrn  of  resemblance,  reinforced  by  association  with  a  common 
tl  may  form  a  more  or  less  closely  unified  organiza^on.  such 
that  the  presence  of  one  of  these  ideas  (or  even  of  the  term 
11  n  consciousness  may  be  accompanied  by  nascent  tend- 
ed to  revival  of  the  others;  and  that  it  is  th-  -mplex  phe 
nomenon  which  is  referred  to  under  the  name  of  'general  ideas 

"ouTSng  divergencies  from  their  view  may  be  summarily 

T7he  ;:n^l  loncept  is  not  identified  with  the  representative 
idea,  but  with  the  total  organization. 


THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT  AND   ITS   FUNCTIONS    19/ 

2.  The  point  of  departure  in  the  formation  of  the  general  con- 
cept is  not  in  mere  ideas  but  in  concepts  of  objects. 

3.  The  resemblance  which  forms  the  bond  of  association  is  not 
(generally  speaking)  between  the  ideas  themselves,  but  between 
the  objects  denoted  by  the  general  concept;  and  it  is  funda- 
mentally based  upon  similarity  of  import. 

4.  The  resemblance  is  such  as  to  call  for  identical  behavior  in 
characteristic  situations;  for  it  is  this  necessity  for  the  uniformity 
of  conduct  (in  spite  of  individual  differences)  which  fixes  attention 
upon  the  resemblance  and  conditions  the  association  based  upon 
it. 

Thus  far  in  our  discussion  of  the  general  concept  we  have  chiefly 
concerned  ourselves  with  earlier  and  simpler  forms,  in  order  to 
discover  the  common  characteristics  of  this  type  of  cognitive 
organization  and  its  general  function  in  the  control  of  conduct. 
We  now  wish  to  turn  our  attention  to  some  of  the  characteristic 
modifications  which  the  general  concept  undergoes  in  the  later 
and  more  complex  stages  of  mental  evolution.  These  modifica- 
tions are  immediately  dependent  on  what  we  have  tried  to  exhibit 
as  the  most  no  able  feature  of  the  development  of  cognition, 
namely  the  increasing  indirectness  of  its  control  of  conduct. 

It  will  be  recalled  that  in  a  former  chapter  pragmatists  were 
criticized  as  falling  into  a  certain  confusion  in  regard  to  the 
end  of  conduct.  The  point  was  made,  that  while  survival  is 
the  primary  end  (in  the  sense  that  it  is  the  essential  condition 
for  the  continuance  of  conduct),  nevertheless  it  is  equally  true 
that  happiness  also  functions  as  an  end  in  the  same  sense;  and 
that,  moreover,  happiness  has  come  to  be  relatively  independent, 
and  much  more  direct  in  its  influence  on  the  development  of 
conduct.  It  was  further  pointed  out  that  what  is  a  common 
phenomenon  of  all  sorts  of  activities  is  to  be  observed  in  connec- 
tion with  theoretical  activity,  namely,  that  it  comes  to  function 
in  relative  independence  of  its  original  end.  We  can  now  see 
more  clearly  why  this  must  be  so.     As  cognition  grows  more 


» .•;, 


^ii 


m 


196  DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 

Berkeley's  theory  is  further  amplified  by  Hume  "Pon  two  hn- 
portant  points;  first,  with  respect  to  the  part  played  by  lar,guage 
in  Lking  possible  the  function  of  general  ideas,  and,  secondly 
with  respect  to  the  part  played  by  'custom'  or  assoc.at.on  m  the 
Tu  *tion  of  representation.    Upon  the  latter  point,  Hume  remarks 
ha    representation  implies  a  certain  suMued  tendency  to  r^.aU 
:h  that  where  the  representative  idea  is  used  m  a  connec .on  m 
which  its  peculiarities  make  it  no  longer  typical  of  the  class,  the 
rendency  shows  itself  by  the  replacement  of  the  unfit  representa- 
L  by  a  more  appropriate  member  of  the  class,    ^^^^^^^l^^ 
the  part  played  by  language,  Hume  commits  h.mself  to  the 
extreme  vL.  that  it  is  absolutely  essential.    The  association  is 
not  trmuch  between  the  various  ideas  of  the  class,  as  between 
Lt^dea  and  the  identical  term  which  denotes  them  all     Making 
allowance  for  this  exaggeration,  we  must  -knowledge  hat  Hur^e 
strengthens  the  Berkeleyan  theory  in  no  small  degree      On  the 
other  hand,  he  fails  to  notice  the  structural  modification  o   the 
representative  idea  to  which  Berekley  calls  attention-most  clear- 
Tw    may  observe,  in  the  latest  (X734)  edition  of  the  Pnnaple^ 
wHch  Hume  may  easily  not  have  seen  while  working  upon  this 

part  of  his  Treatise.  .  o^.i^^i^v 

Regarding  the  mutually  complementary  theories  of  Berkeley 
and  Hume  as  substantially  one,  we  find  ourselves  in  fundamental 
agreement  upon  the  following  points:  that  ideas  connected  by  a 
relatrn  of  resemblance,  reinforced  by  association  with  a  common 
t^n^  form  a  more  or  less  closely  unified  organisation,  such 
that  the  presence  of  one  of  these  ideas  (or  even  of   the   term 
alone)  in  consciousness  may  be  accompanied  by  nascent  tend- 
fncie    to  revival  of  the  others;  and  that  it  is  th.s  complex  phe- 
nomenon which  is  referred  to  under  the  name  of  'general  ideas 

''ouTleadlng  divergencies  from  their  view  may  be  summarily 

T  The  ;:nt:^l  lolept  is  not  identified  with  the  representative 
idea,  but  with  the  total  organization. 


THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT   AND    ITS   FUNCTIONS    1 97 

2.  The  point  of  departure  in  the  formation  of  the  general  con- 
cept is  not  in  mere  ideas  but  in  concepts  of  objects. 

3.  The  resemblance  which  forms  the  bond  of  association  is  not 
(generally  speaking)  between  the  ideas  themselves,  but  between 
the  objects  denoted  by  the  general  concept;  and  it  is  funda- 
mentally based  upon  similarity  of  import. 

4.  The  resemblance  is  such  as  to  call  for  identical  behavior  in 
characteristic  situations ;  for  it  is  this  necessity  for  the  uniformity 
of  conduct  (in  spite  of  individual  differences)  which  fixes  attention 
upon  the  resemblance  and  conditions  the  association  based  upon 
it. 

Thus  far  in  our  discussion  of  the  general  concept  we  have  chiefly 
concerned  ourselves  with  earlier  and  simpler  forms,  in  order  to 
discover  the  common  characteristics  of  this  type  of  cognitive 
organization  and  its  general  function  in  the  control  of  conduct. 
We  now  wish  to  turn  our  attention  to  some  of  the  characteristic 
modifications  which  the  general  concept  undergoes  in  the  later 
and  more  complex  stages  of  mental  evolution.  These  modifica- 
tions are  immediately  dependent  on  what  we  have  tried  to  exhibit 
as  the  most  no  able  feature  of  the  development  of  cognition, 
namely  the  increasing  indirectness  of  its  control  of  conduct. 

It  will  be  recalled  that  in  a  former  chapter  pragmatists  were 
criticized  as  falling  into  a  certain  confusion  in  regard  to  the 
end  of  conduct.  The  point  was  made,  that  while  survival  is 
the  primary  end  (in  the  sense  that  it  is  the  essential  condition 
for  the  continuance  of  conduct),  nevertheless  it  is  equally  true 
that  happiness  also  functions  as  an  end  in  the  same  sense;  and 
that,  moreover,  happiness  has  come  to  be  relatively  independent, 
and  much  more  direct  in  its  influence  on  the  development  of 
conduct.  It  was  further  pointed  out  that  what  is  a  common 
phenomenon  of  all  sorts  of  activities  is  to  be  observed  in  connec- 
tion with  theoretical  activity,  namely,  that  it  comes  to  function 
in  relative  independence  of  its  original  end.  We  can  now  see 
more  clearly  why  this  must  be  so.     As  cognition  grows  more 


M: 


Ml 


i 


198 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


efficient,  it  grows  more  indirect  in  the  performance  of  its  function, 
this  increasing  indirectness  being  intimately  correlated  with  an 
increase  in  the  organization  and  mutual  dependence  of  concepts. 
For  in  order  that  our  conduct  may  be  successful  in  meeting  the 
demands  of  a  complex  and  changing  life,  it  is  necessary  that  the 
ideas  which  prompt  it  should  be  consistent  and  systematic. 
Accordingly  there  has  arisen  a  characteristic  and  peculiar  interest 
in  the  organization  and  consistency  of  our  concepts  for  its  own 
sake.     Mental  behavior  comes  to  be  a  relatively  independent 
sort  of  conduct  determined  by  its  own  specific  end,  intellectual 
satisfaction.     We  must  not,  of  course,  fail  to  recognize  that  men- 
tal behavior  can  never  become  more  than  relatively  independ^ent 
of  overt  conduct.     Its  roots  are  in  practical  and  social  life,  and 
the  very  condition  of  its  health  lies  in  an  ever  renewed  contact 
with,  and  adaptation  to,  the  changing  phases  of  such  life.     Never- 
theless it  remains  equally  important  for  the  understanding  of 
the  evolution  of  conceptual  thought,  to  take  account  of  its  grow- 
ing distinctiveness  of  character.     It  is  naturally  to  be  expected 
that  along  with  this  transform.ation  in  the  end  of  thought  should 
go  certain  modifications  of  its  structure;  and  these  we  find. 

First,  we  have  to  note  the  existence  of  a  whole  class  of  concepts 
which  have  arisen  in  direct  response  to  the  needs  of  mental 
behavior,  and  whose  function  and  meaning  are  determined  with 
reference  to  the  end  of  this  behavior.     Such  are  the  whole  body 
of  the  abstract  concepts  of  the  sciences.     While  the  development 
of  the  different  special  sciences  has  had  a  profound  effect  on 
practical  life,  yet  the  particular  advances  have  been  generally 
made  without  reference  to  practical  considerations.     Nor  can 
the  meaning  of  any  single  concept  taken  by  itself  be  interpreted 
in  terms  of  overt  conduct.     Many  of  our  scientific  concepts  have 
doubtless  arisen  through  the  modification  of  previously  existing 
practical  concepts  by  a  sort  of  analogy— as  in  the  case  of  mathe- 
matical 'continuity'  and  logical  'inclusion'.     In  scientific  concepts 
content  and  import  approach  each  other  very  closely,  since  the 
conduct  to  which  they  refer  is  itself  the  discovery  of  logical 


THE   DEVELOPING   CONCEPT  AND    ITS   FUNCTIONS    1 99 

relationships.  Yet  the  distinction  does  not  fade  away  entirely. 
In  such  a  concept  as  evolution,  for  example,  it  comes  out  very 
clearly.  On  the  side  of  content,  evolution  means  a  process  of 
change  distinguished  by  certain  definite  characteristics;  on  the 
side  of  import,  it  means  no  less  than  a  whole  new  principle  of 
classification,  almost  one  might  claim,  of  scientific  procedure. 
Moreover,  what  we  found  to  be  true  of  the  formation  of  the 
simpler  general  concepts  seems  to  hold  equally  of  these  more 
complex  and  abstract  ones — namely,  that  the  association  of  the 
ideas  composing  a  concept  rests  primarily  upon  the  common 
functional  significance  of  the  objects  denoted  by  the  concept  in 
question.  This  may  perhaps  be  illustrated  by  the  transforma- 
tion wrought  in  the  traditional  biological  classifications  by  the 
concept  of  evolution.  The  most  advantageous  principle  for  the 
classification  of  organic  groups  has  come  to  be  descent  from  a 
common  parent  stock.  That  is  to  say,  common  descent  is  the 
characteristic  w^hich  calls  for  similar  intellectual  treatment  of 
the  organisms  possessing  it.  The  concept  of  the  species  thus 
determined  accordingly  comes  to  include  as  essential  characteris- 
tics other  common  features  of  the  organisms  which  it  is  scarcely 
conceivable  would  have  been  selected  and  associated  for  any 
other  reason.  Identity  of  import  thus  conditions  the  association 
of  related  similarities,  which  so  become  content.  The  basis  for 
no  scientific  classification  is  mere  unmotived  association  of  like- 
nesses, however  striking  in  themselves. 

Secondly,  in  the  later  development  of  general  concepts,  there 
is  observable  the  appearance  of  a  tendency  which  marks  the 
development  of  all  organic  structures,  namely,  the  tendency 
toward  fixity  and  loss  of  plasticity.  In  the  case  of  the  concept 
this  increase  in  fixity  seems  to  be  reinforced  by  the  necessity  of 
counteracting  the  unwieldiness  of  the  more  general  concepts, 
arising  from  the  great  complexity  of  their  organization.  The 
fact  that  the  development  of  these  more  complex  organizations 
depends  upon  their  mutual  dependence  and  relationship  within  a 


1' 


1: 


i 


200 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


system  makes  desirable  a  growing  definiteness  and  fixity  of  the 
internal  structure  of  the  concept.     This  is  the  phenomenon  which 
we  find  in  definition.     Definition  is  a  singling  out  of  certain 
features  or  certain  elements  of  the  total  meaning  of  a  concept 
and  regarding  these  as  essential,  while  other  more  loosely  associa- 
ted ideas  are  more  or  less  effectively  excluded.     Even  before 
intentional  and  formal  definition  takes  place,  however,  this  proc- 
ess of  centralization  has  been  at  work;  and  to  a   large  extent 
the  formal  definition  merely  recognizes  and  confirms  the  segrega- 
tion which  has  already  taken  place.     It  is  of  significance  that 
this  segregation,  or  definition,  involves  the  selection  of  a  com- 
paratively small  group  of  associated  concepts,  the  relationships 
to  which  become  constitutive  for  the  concept  in  question.    What 
thus  takes  place  in  the  course  of  intellectual  evolution  is  that  the 
organization  of  concepts  tends  to  fall  into  groups,  varying  in 
size  and  in  the  closeness  of  their  interrelations.     At  the  one 
extreme  are  the  loose  apperceptive  systems  of  common  life,  which 
vary  with  occupation,  habits,  and  interests,  as  well  as  from  indi- 
vidual to  individual ;  at  the  other,  the  special  sciences.    It  is  within 
these  last,  and  particularly  within  the  abstract  sciences,  that  the 
process  of  integration  and  fixation  of  concepts  has  been  carried 
farthest.     Because  the  special  science  is  so  remote  in  its  reference 
to  common  life  and  so  entirely  controlled  in  its  progress  by  its 
own  special  end,  it  becomes  a  system  relatively  independent  of 
the  great  body  of  cognitive  experience.    The  increasing  deter- 
minateness  of  its  peculiar  field,  the  increasing  definiteness  of  its 
peculiar  presuppositions,  impart  a  high  degree  of  stability  to 

its  distinctive  concepts. 

But  it  seems  impossible  that  the  definiteness  and  fixity— the 
'clearness  and  distinctness'-of  scientific  concepts  should  ever 
be  more  than  approximate.  The  meaning  of  the  associated  con- 
cepts, in  terms  of  which  a  given  concept  is  defined,  must  itself 
be  determined  in  relation  to  yet  other  concepts.  For  if  it  were 
possible  to  restrict  the  meaning  of  a  group  of  concepts  to  the 


THE   DEVELOPING  CONCEPT. AND   ITS   FUNCTIONS   201 

mutual  relationships  within  the  group,  the  group  as  a  whole  would 
lose  all  connection  with  the  developing  body  of  cognitive  experi- 
ence— it  would  be  simply  a  useless  mass  of  dead  matter.  In 
other  words,  an  uneliminable  condition  for  the  continued  func- 
tioning of  a  concept  is  its  very  plasticity  and  indeterminateness 
— its  lack  of  'clearness  and  distinctness.' 


""^■'"^»»^»*»<   *•*■* 


CHAPTER  V 

PRAGMATISM  AND  THE  FORM  OF  THOUGHT 

We  propose  to  bring  together  in  this  chapter  certain  considera- 
tions bearing  upon  the  contempt  for  formal  logic  which  prevails 
among  pragmatists.  It  appears  to  us,  and  we  shall  try  to  estab- 
lish the  contention,  that  this  contempt  and  the  hostility  which 
it  has  inspired  have  no  reasonable  excuse;  that  they  have  arisen 
from  an  unwarranted  exaggeration  of  the  legitimate  consequences 
of  the  pragmatist  theory  of  truth. 

The  general  position  which  we  are  to  criticise  may  be  briefly 
indicated  as  follows. 

Consciousness  is  a  function  of  the  animal  organism  which  has 
developed  by  reason  of  its  utility  in  various  types  of  situations. 
The  intelligent  study  of  consciousness  will  not  attempt  to  sepa- 
rate it  from  the  conditions  under  which  its  present  characteristics 
have  been  acquired  and  to  which  its  various  structural  relations 
owe  all  their  functional  importance.  To  make  such  a  separation 
is  to  be  committed  to  a  formalism  as  shallow  as  that  of  an  engineer 
who  should  analyze  and  describe  a  complicated  machine  without 
reference  to  the  work  for  which  it  was  designed  and  by  which 
the  proportions  and  interconnections  of  all  its  parts  were  deter- 
mined. 

If  consciousness  is  not  to  be  studied  as  a  thing-in-itself,  still 
less  is  logical  thought.  For  the  latter  is  but  an  episode  in  the 
life  of  feeling.  It  has  its  rise  in  the  unpleasant  strain  occasioned 
by  the  failure  of  an  habitual  mode  of  behavior;  and  it  has  its 
normal  conclusion  in  the  satisfaction  attendant  upon  successful 
readjustment.  All  real  thought  is  essentially  practical,  in  the 
sense  that  it  is  devoted  to  the  solving  of  problems  arising  out 
of  the  exigencies  of  conduct,  and  that  when  a  solution  is  reached 
behavior  is  modified  accordingly.     Thought  is  therefore  not  to 

202 


1 

^ 


PRAGMATISM   AND   THE   FORM   OF   THOUGHT        203 

be  studied  to  greatest  advantage  in  those  of  its  manifestations 
where  it  is  as  nearly  as  possible  idle — where  needs  are  fictitious, 
interest  lax,  effort  subliminal,  and  the  entire  operation  is  scarcely 
more  than  the  repetition  of  a  form  of  words. 

When  thought  is  seen  at  work,  the  meaning  of  logical  validity 
is  clear.  Valid  thought  is  efficient  thought,  thought  that  accom- 
plishes its  function  of  controlling  conduct  in  accordance  with  the 
needs  of  the  organism.  The  notion,  that  apart  from  its  proper 
function  thought  may  possess  a  peculiar  intrinsic,  or  formal, 
validity,  is  delusive.  A  form  of  thought,  as  distinguished  from 
its  content,  there  is  none. 

Hence  the  futility  of  formal  logic.  It  is  the  physiology  of  a 
corpse — of  thought  which  is  without  function  and  without  life. 
Even  the  Hegelian  dialectic  is  better;  for  in  spite  of  willful  ab- 
straction one  cannot  think  the  categories  without  surreptitiously 
bringing  in  something  of  their  concrete  significance,  and  it  is  to 
this  that  whatever  insight  is  therein  displayed  is  due.  But  formal 
logic,  the  science  of  every  thought  and  none,  is  at  the  limit  of 
possible  insignificance.     Any  access  of  sense  is  rigorously  cut  off. 

This  judgment  of  the  supposed  science  of  thought  is  strongly 
confirmed  by  an  examination  of  the  specific  content  which  it  has 
accumulated.  We  find  a  body  of  formulae,  which  are  fitly  ex- 
pressed, not  in  words  with  their  wide  and  shifting  associations, 
but  in  bare  and  simple  algeUraic  symbols.  Do  these  formulae 
constitute  a  description  of  any  actual  thought?  Who  knows? 
The  logician,  as  logician,  does  not  care — except  that  he  would 
like  to  think  that  his  logic  itself  is  logical,  i.  e.,  conforms  to  its 
own  canons;  but  this  he  knows  he  cannot  show.  But  the  inten- 
tion of  the  formulae  is  not  to  describe  actual  thought  (which  may 
be  logical  or  illogical)  but  a  certain  type  of  ideal  thought.  Whe- 
ther any  such  thought  has  occurred  or  will  ever  occur,  is  a 
secondary  consideration. 

The  most  striking  characteristic  of  the  ideal  thought  is  the 
absolute  fixity  of  its  terms.  A  is  A,  and  A  is  not  not-A,  are 
classic  expressions  of  this  feature.     The  most  striking  character- 


^ 


204  DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 

istic  of  actual  human  thought,  at  least  to  the  observation  of  the 
trained  student  of  human  nature,  is  the  more  or  less  limited  fixity 
and  stability  of  its  terms.     They  are  products  of  an  evolution 
which  still  proceeds.     And  though  we  cannot  in  many  instances 
distinguish,  or  even  imagine,  the  particular  changes  that  may 
have  taken  place  within  the  period  of  human  history,  and  must 
even  grant  that  certain  concepts  have,  in  all  probability,  remained 
substantially  unchanged  for  ages,  we  cannot  avoid  recognizing 
at  least  the  possibility  of  their  future  modification.     In  no  case 
have  we  sufficient  warrant  to  guarantee  the  permanent  fixity  of 
the  existing  forms;  and,  in  fact,  it  is  only  within  the  domain  of 
the  mathematical  sciences  that  such  fixity  could  be  claimed  with 
any  show  of  reasonableness.     Of  the  great  mass  of  our  concepts 
we  can  scarcely  doubt  that  they  are  changing  now  more  rapidly 

than  ever  before. 

But  where  concepts  are  undergoing  an  evolution,  a  precise 
clearness  cannot  be  expected.     Where  distinctions  are  hardening 
and  melting  away  again  and  shifting  generally,  it  is  impossible 
that  dividing  lines  should  be  shadowless  and  unbroken.     Bacon's 
aphorism,  that  ultimately  satisfactory  definitions  belong,  not  to 
the  initial  stages,  but  to  the  consummation  of  the  sciences,  is 
significant  to  us  as  the  description  of  a  never  to  be  attained  ideal. 
The  conviction  of  clearness  is  common  enough.     But  we  have 
well  learned  that  there  is  no  more  sftspicious  indication  of  shallow- 
ness of  mind.     The  nearer  any  concrete  reasoning  approaches 
the  mathematical  type,  the  readier  we  are  to  condemn  it  as 

doctrinaire. 

The  weakness  of  the  syllogism,  that  supposed  universal  form 
of  thought,  is  now  evident.  The  possibility  of  drawing  a  con- 
elusion  depends  upon  the  exact  identity  of  the  middle  term  in 
the  two  premises.  But  who  shall  vouch  for  this?  Not  to  the 
satisfaction  of  common  sense  alone,  but  in  accordance  with  the 
canons  of  the  syllogism  itself?  For  by  these  canons  the  least 
variation  constitutes  a  quaternio,  and  no  valid  inference  is  then 
possible.     In  fact,  so  far  from  being  an  absolutely  certain  m6de 


PRAGMATISM    AND   THE   FORM    OF   THOUGHT        20$ 

of  inference,  the  syllogism  is  dangerously  deceptive,  just  because 
it  effectually  conceals  the  evidences  of  its  weakness.  The  syl- 
logistic axiom,  the  dictum  de  omni  et  nullo,  pretending  to  represent 
the  essential  form  of  thought  in  abstraction  from  all  particularity 
of  content,  is,  in  reality,  without  application  to  any  content  what- 
soever; for  its  terms  require  just  that  fixity  and  clearness  which 
the  thoughts  of  men  can  never  claim. 

The  pragmatist  theory,  that  all  meanings  refer  ultimately  to 
correlations  of  stimulus  and  response,  can  be  accepted  only  with 
certain  reservations,  which  may  be  summed  up  in  the  statement, 
that  such  reference  is  never  direct  and  never  univocal.  Let  us 
consider  the  latter  qualification  first. 

A  concept  is  never  univocal  in  its  reference  to  a  mode  of  con- 
duct ;  that  is  to  say,  its  meaning  is  never  limited  to  the  correlation 
of  a  certain  type  of  stimulus  with  a  certain  response.  On  the 
contrary,  its  import  invariably  embraces  a  variety  of  actions 
under  different  circumstances.  To  take  a  simple  example,  the 
concept  of  the  straight  line  means  that  when  we  wish  to  look  at 
one  object  we  must  take  care  that  a  second  does  not  stand  in 
the  way;  a  circumstance  which,  when  it  occurs,  may  be  obviated 
by  moving  either  of  the  objects,  by  standing  aside,  or  by  changing 
the  attitude  of  the  body.  It  also  means  that  in  order  to  hit  an 
object  with  a  missile  we  must  throw  it  in  its  direction;  that  in 
order  to  reach  a  destination  with  the  greatest  prompitude,  we 
must  travel  directly  toward  it;  that  in  order  that  a  rope  may 
not  sag  it  must  be  stretched  taut ;  and  so  on,  practically  ad  infini- 
tum. So  also  an  apple  means  to  us  the  eating  of  it,  if  it  be  sound 
and  sweet  and  our  appetite  be  so  inclined ;  the  paring  and  coring 
of  it,  if  need  be;  the  removal  of  a  worm  or  bruised  spot  perhaps. 
And  the  case  is  not  different  with  such  concepts  as  joy  and  sorrow, 
pity  and  scorn.  We  may  add  that  even  when  the  particular 
situation  is  given,  the  concept  never  determines  a  specific  appro- 
priate adjustment.  The  immediate  one-to-one  correlation  does 
not  fall  within  the  function  of  thought.     That  remains  the  func- 


11 


206 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


tion  of  older  and  simpler  agencies.  Our  thoughts  direct  our 
conduct,  and  it  is  in  this  service  that  their  meaning  ultimately 
consists ;  but  every  concept  means  both  more  and  less  than  any 
particular  application  of  it  contains. 

To  this  we  have  added  that  the  reference  of  a  concept  to  a 
mode  of  conduct  is  never  direct.  The  concept  never  directly 
bridges  the  gap  between  stimulus  and  response.  On  the  con- 
trary, thought  is  a  long-circuiting  of  the  connection,  and  its 
whole  character  depends  upon  its  indirectness,  its  involution,  if 
we  may  use  the  term.  Though  concepts,  apart  from  the  conduct 
which  they  prompt,  mean  nothing,  yet  their  meaning  's  never 
analyzable  except  into  other  concepts,  indirect  like  the  first  m 
their  reference  to  conduct.  ^ 

But  does  not  this  really  do  away  with  the  reference  altogether? 
It  certainly  would,  if  concepts  were  ever  (in  the  rationalist's 
sense)  perfectly  clear,  if  their  implications  ever  became  perfectly 
explicit.     But  as  thought  always  arises  as  a  problem,  so  it  always 
remains  more  or  less  problematic,  for  that  is  what  lack  of  clear- 
ness  amounts  to.     Every  concept  involves  an  indefinite  number 
of  problems;  and  these  cannot  be  stated  except  in  terms  which 
themselves  in  turn  involve  indefinite  series  of  problems.     No- 
where  is  there  an  absolute  given,  a  self-sufficient  first  premise. 
From  this,  as  well  as  from  the  indirect  and  equivocal  nature  of 
the  reference  of  thought  to  conduct,  it  follows  that  the  confirma- 
tion or  invalidation  of  a  concept  by  the  resiilt  of  the  conduct 
which  it  serves  to  guide  can  itself  be  no  more  than  tentative. 
But  this  does  not  mean  that  it. is  unreal  or  unessential  to  the 
nature  or  development  of  thought. 

These  considerations,  however,  have  a  decided  bearing  upon 
the  pragmatist  contention,  that  apart  from  its  reference  to  con- 
duct thought  has  no  form.  This  is  naturally  understood  to  imply 
that  the  nature  of  thought  may  be  exhaustively  described  in  the 
statement  of  its  relation  to  conduct.  Now  t  is  very  probable 
that  the  statement  of  the  relation  between  two  terms  may  be 
indefinitely  developed,  so  as  to  include  any  assignable  attribute 


PRAGMATISM    AND   THE   FORM   OF   THOUGHT        20/ 


of  the  terms  in  question.  But  at  any  stage  of  scientific  progress 
all  this  remains  an  abstract  possibility;  and  the  degree  in  which 
the  statement  of  a  relation  is  actually  comprehensive  of  the  other- 
wise known  content  of  its  terms  is  capable  of  indefinite  variation. 
And  with  respect  to  thought  and  conduct  it  must  be  said  that 
the  very  indirectness  and  equivocality  of  the  reference  of  the 
former  to  the  latter  gives  thought  a  character  of  its  own,  which 
is  as  independent  of  aught  beyond  as  can  well  be  imagined.  The 
more  meaning  is  read  into  this  particular  doctrine,  the  less  truth 
there  is  n  it.  Apart  from  the  reference  of  thought  to  conduct, 
that  is  to  say,  in  the  limitless  interrelations  of  concepts  with  each 
other,  thought  has  as  distinctive  a  form  as  any  abstractly  con- 
sidered entity  whatsoever. 

What,  then,  shall  be  said  of  logical  validity?  Is  it  true  that 
this  does  not  attach  to  thought  considered  in  abstraction  from 
the  control  of  conduct — that  its  only  test  is  the  practical  one, 
the  cessation  of  thought  itself  when  its  task  of  readjustment  is 
done?  For  thereasons  j ust  given  we  cannot  assent  to  this.  The 
very  indirectness  of  the  reference  of  concepts  to  modes  of 
of  reaction  implies  that  the  interrelations  of  concepts  which  me- 
diate the  ultimate  practical  reference  must  have  a  character  of 
rightness  or  wrongness  in  themselves.  To  say  that  without  the 
ulterior  test  of  workability  all  other  rightness  or  wrongness  would 
be  fictitious  is  to  interpose  an  idle  objection.  For  the  point 
precisely  is  that  without  a  characteristic  organization  of  the  con- 
tent of  thought  the  practical  significance  of  thought  would  itself 
disappear. 

The  fact  is  that  according  to  the  common  pragmatist  view  a 
chain  of  reasoning  would  be  altogether  impossible.  For  in  such 
a  chain  each  link  must  be  valid  if  the  whole  is  to  have  any 
strength.  But  the  test  of  practice  obviously  cannot  apply  to 
the  separate  links;  it  can  only  indicate  in  a  general  way  the 
profitableness  of  the  whole  procedure.  If  the  test  fails,  that 
alone  does  not  determine  where  the  difificulty  lies.  It  is,  indeed, 
implied,  that  each  valid  link,  if  separately  tested — or  if  tested 


2o8  DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 

in  a  variety  of  connections,  such  as  would  throw  its  own  strength 
or  weakness  into  relief-would  lead  to  satisfactory  results  But 
in  the  chain  of  argument  no  such  procedure  is  ordinarily  con- 
templated. On  the  contrary,  each  — l-'^;). ''^^f'^^^  !"  ^'^ 
course  of  the  argument  is  regarded  as  proceeding  --  J  ^  «J 
from  its  premises;  and  it  is  upon  that  supposition  that  the  rea- 
soner  advances  to  the  later  conclusions. 

But  it  is  not  only  the  chain  of  reasoning  that  cannot  be  ac- 
counted for  on  the  pragmatist  basis.    The  simplest  conceivable 
argument,  in  which  premise  and  conclusion  are  distinguished,  be- 
comes equally  inexplicable;  and  this  can  be  shown  froni  an  ex- 
ample which  is  in  constant  reference  by  the  pragmatists  them- 
selves.   Let  us  suppose  that  the  truth  of  a  general  hypothesis  has 
been  tested  in  the  case  of  a  particular  instance    and  ^as  been 
found  in  want  of  correction.     Here,  on  thebasis  of  the  hypo  hesis 
under  consideration,  something  is  inferred  as  to  the  results  of 
acting  in  a  certain  way  under  certain  circumstances;  and  this 
conclusion,  as  compared  with  the  observed  results,  is  found  to 
be  false.     What  now  constitutes  the  validity  of  the  inference 
^vhich  led  to  the  admittedly  false  conclusion?    The  whole  pro- 
cedure depends  upon  this  point,  and  yet  just  this  point  is  sub- 
mitted to  no  practical  test.     To  be  sure  it  may  be  said  that 
similar  inferences  have  in  the  past  been  found  to  be  correct 
But,  in  the  first  place,  it  is  probably  not  on  the  basis  of  such  a 
comparison  that  the  untrue  conclusion  is  accepted  as  correctly 
derived.     That  is  seldom  a  matter  for  reflection.     And,  in  the 
second  place,  we  must  observe  that  the  pragmatist  theory  fails 
equally  to  explain  the  correctness  of  an  inference  from  true 
premises.     In  a  word,  the  theory  does  not  distinguish  between 
•     the  correctness  of  an  inference  and  the  truth  of  its  pren^rses,  and 
hence  virtually  eliminates  the  former  altogether. 

So  far  as  we  are  aware,  this  result  can  only  be  avoided  by  an 
interpretation  of  pragmatism  in  which  its  opposition  to  formal 
logic  is  given  up.  It  is  pointed  out  that  the  acceptance  of  a 
conclusion  as  satisfactorily  derived,  with  the  consequent  passing 


PRAGMATISM   AND  THE   FORM   OF  THOUGHT        209 

on  to  the  drawing  of  further  inferences  is  itself  a  piece  of  conduct 
in  which  eariier  thought  finds  its  extinction;  and  that  the  mean- 
ing which  we  ascribe  to  the  term  'validity'  is  exhausted  in  its 
reference  to  such  conduct.  To  this  we  have  no  objection ;  but 
we  think  it  necessary  to  call  attention  to  several  important  fea- 
tures of  the  argument. 

In  the  first  place,  the  conduct  just  mentioned  is  not  to  be 
confused  with  the  conduct  to  which  implied  reference  is  made  n 
the  conclusion.    Suppose,  for  example,  that  it  has  been  demon- 
strated by  the  methods  of  elementary  geometry,  that  a  triangle 
is  determined  by  the  length  of  its  three  sides.    This  is  a  most 
useful  principle  in  many  lines  of  activity,  very  conspicuously  in 
building.     It  means,  for  one  thing,  that  a  triangular  structure 
made  of  stiff  material  is  non-collapsible,  even  though  its  corners 
be  hinged,  and,  consequently,  that  such  a  structure  has  no  need 
of  further  bracing.     The  rectangle  is  known  not  to  have  this 
property;  and  accordingly  a  frame  of  that  shape  is  frequently 
given  greater  rigidity  by  constructing  a  triangle  in  one  of  its 
corners.     Now  it  is  in  its  reference  to  such  practical  applications 
as  this  that  the  meaning  of  the  proposition  consists;  and  its 
truth  is  confirmed  by  the  satisfactory  issue  of  the  conduct  thus 
prompted.    The  point  to  which  special  attention  must  be  called, 
is  that,  according  to  the  interpretation  of  the  pragmatist  doctrine 
which  we  are  now  considering,  this  is  not  the  conduct  in  reference 
to  which  the  validity  of  the  demonstration  itself  has  its  meaning. 
The  meaning  of  'validity'  is  found  in  the  characteristic  mental 
procedure  involved  in  accepting  the  conclusion  as  warranted  by  the 
premises,  and  which  would  be  generically  the  same,  whether  the 
premises  (and  accordingly  the  conclusion)  were  regarded  as  true, 
as  probable,  as  possible,  or  even  as  contrary  to  fact.     Here,  as 
elsewhere,  of  course,  no  single  definite  act  can  be  pointed  out  as 
unequivocally  referred  to  by  the  concept;  but  that  fact  offers 
no  greater  difficulty  here  than  in  the  case  of  physical  behavior. 
In  the  second  place,  it  is  implied  that  apart  from  the  interest 
attaching  to  the  environmental  situation  which  indirectly  promp- 

15 


■  I 


i  1 


2IO  DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 

ted  the  whole  argument,  there  is  likewise  a  specific  interest  at- 
taching to  the  logical  situation  as  such.  This  situation  .s 
formulated  in  a  problem,  the  solution  of  which  is  contamed  .n 
the  acceptance  of  the  conclusion  as  correctly  derived  That 
such  a  specific  interest  exists  is  very  commonly  believed,  and  is 
by  no  means  an  untenable  hypothesis.  Logical  validity  is  thus 
recognized  as  a  kind  of  value  depending  upon  a  specific  sentiment 
and  as  in  so  far  comparable  to  esthetic  and  moral  values. 

In  the  third  place,  the  special  point  which  we  have  had  in 
view  throughout  this  digression  is  now  readily  established, - 
namely  that  the  opposition  of  pragmatism  to  merely  formal  logic 
has   no   solid   basis.    The   familiar  pragmatist  doctrine,   that 
thought  has  no  validity  apart  from  its  function  in  controlling 
Unduct.  seems  like  a  subterfuge  when  we  reflect  that  the  conduct 
to  which  logical  validity  refers  is  logical  procedure  itself.     It  is  no 
•  subterfuge,  however,  but  only  the  result  of  an  afterthought 
Which  reestablishes  what  at  first  sight  seemed  done  away  with. 
Knd  after  all.  though  the  negative  result  proved  deceptive,  the 
positive  results  which  may  be  safely  enumerated  are  not  small. 
It  is  no  small  gain  to  have  learned,  that  in  so  far  as  thought  has 
a  distinctive  form,  it  must  be  viewed  as  purposive  behavior 
animated  by  a  distinctive  human  interest.     It  surely  is  not  a 
less  welcome,  because  a  somewhat  unexpected,  outconie  of  the 
3ragmatist  philosophy,  that  theoretical  values  as  such  are  re- 
,tored  to  their  ancient  position  of  dignified  independence  of 
more  narrowly  'practical'  needs. 

Let  it  be  noted  that  in  asserting  against  the  pragmatist  the 
indispensability  of  the  conception  of  a  form  of  thought  as  such, 
we  do  not  commit  ourselves  to  any  dogma  as  to  the  universahty 
or  permanence  of  this  form.  We  need  assert  no  greater  claims 
for  the  form  of  thought  (however  it  be  expressed)  than  we  are 
ready  to  assert  for  the  fundamental  laws  of  mechanics.  In  either 
case,  if  an  absolute  exist  we  can  never  know  it ;  and  any  ascription 
of  qualities  to  the  unknowable  is  sheer  play  of  fancy.     The  form 


PRAGMATISM   AND   THE   FORM   OF   THOUGHT         211 

of  thought,  as  we  know  it,  though  fairly  clear  in  certain  respects, 
is  sadly  obscure  in  some  others.  Our  conceptions  of  it  have 
undergone  some  very  decided  modifications  in  the  past,  and  no 
doubt  will  be  profoundly  modified  in  the  future.  The  assertion, 
then,  that  thought  has  a  universal  form,  could  we  but  know  it, 
is  without  scientific  significance.  And  to  assert  absolute  uni- 
versality for  any  statement  of  its  form  which  we  can  make, 
is  to  lapse  into  indefensible  rationalism. 

Nor,  for  similar  reasons,  are  we  committed  to  any  dogma  with 
regard  to  the  relation  of  the  form  of  thought  to  its  content.  We 
must,  however,  frankly  admit  one  necessary  assumption, — 
namely,  that  hypothetically  to  recognize  any  definite  form  of 
thought  at  all  is  hypothetically  to  recognize  it  as  a  universal 
under  which  various  contents  are  subsumed  without  change  in 
itself.  But  the  self-contradiction — if  such  there  be — is  no  greater 
than  is  involved  in  any  general  proposition  whatsoever.  For 
no  proposition  can  contain  the  confession  of  its  own  imperma- 
nence.  And  it  is  of  no  avail  to  object  that  'form,'  as  distinguished 
from  'content,'  is  a  category  of  ignorance  or  of  imperfect  knowl- 
edge; for  so  are  all  our  other  categories. 

Herein,  though  we  have  departed  from  the  letter  of  the  prag- 
matist doctrine,  we  believe  we  have  remained  true  to  its  deeper 
spirit.  Our  criticism  is,  indeed,  that  it  has  contained  a  vital 
inconsistency.  In  the  theory  of  inference  that  inconsistency 
appears  as  a  denial  of  the  reciprocality  of  determination,  as 
exemplified  in  the  relation  of  premise  and  conclusion  Whereas 
rationalism  had  made  the  former  prior  in  authority,  pragmatism 
has  simply  reversed  the  order  of  dependence  and  made  the  con- 
clusion prior  to  the  premise.  Thus,  for  pragmatism  as  for  ration- 
alism, the  inference  has  ultimately  vanished  altogether. 

It  is  not  necessary  for  us  to  examine  at  length  the  specific 
criticisms  which  the  pragmatist  urges  against  the  traditional 
schema  of  the  form  of  thought,  namely,  the  syllogism.  It  is 
true  that  the  formula  of  the  syllogism  does  imply  that  the  terms 
are  distinct  and  fixed  in  meaning,  at  least  so  far  as  to  ensure  the 


I 


ii 


■i] 


212 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


universality  of  the  major  premise  and  to  exclude  a  quatermo 
terminorum;  and  it  is  possible  that  this  condition  is  not  satisfied 
in  any  real  deduction.     But  the  answer  is,  that  deduction  is  a 
thought-process  in  which  ideas  are  regarded  as  if  they  were  fixed 
and  distinct;  and  an  ample  justification  of  the  process  is  the  fact 
that  ideas  must  be  so  regarded  if  their  specific  obscurities  and 
self-contradictions  are  ever  to  be  exhibited  and  removed.     It  is 
by  working  our  ideas  for  all  that  they  are  worth,  that  their 
limitations  are  brought  to  light.     Is  the  syllogism  a  true  account 
of  the  deductive  process  as  it  goes  on  in  our  minds?    We  cannot 
say  that;  for,  in  the  first  place,  it  would  claim  for  the  doctrine 
of  the  syllogism  an  absolute  certitude  which  we  are  not  disposed 
to  claim  for  any  knowledge  whatsoever;  and,  in  the  second  place, 
we  know  in  a  general  way  that  obscurity  and  vacillation  every- 
where pervade  our  thought.     But  in  a  specific  instance,  the  syl- 
logism may  well  enough  describe  our  thought,  so  far  as  our  per- 
ception of  its  significance  yet  extends;  and  when  that  perception 
becomes  deeper,  we  no  longer  call  the  total  process,  as  thus  dis- 
tinguished, deduction.     And  furthermore,  at  any  stage  of  prog- 
ress, the  syllogism  is  the  form  which  the  clearest  of  our  thought 
appears  to  take.     In  so  far,  the  rationalist  was  undoubtedly 
right  in  his  conception  of  deductive  certainty  as  the  ideal  of 
science.     He  did  not  see,  however,  that  it  is  an  ideal  which  can 
only  be  progressively  realized,-that  its  absolute  realization 
would,  indeed,  be  the  extinction  of  thought  altogether.     If  there 
were  any  such  assured  knowledge  as  the  rationalist  dreamed  of 
—final,  irreducible,  modifiable  only  by  accretion— his  logic  would 
have  been  unanswerable.     It  is  our  sense  of  the  universal  process 
that  for  us  limits  the  truth  of  his  account  to  a  temporal  cross- 
section  of  knowledge,  regarded  as  if  it  were  eternal. 

Very  similar  must  be  our  comment  upon  the  pragmatist's 
treatment  of  the  conception  of  fundamental  categories  of  thought. 
Despite  its  lack  ol  finality  the  conception  has  a  very  considerable 
degree  of  usefulness.  Kant  is  popularly  believed  to  have  been 
one  of  the  most  wanton  of  theorists,  exceeded  in  this  respect 


PRAGMATISM  AND   THE  FORM   OF  THOUGHT        213 

only  by  his  romantic  successors, — a  self-centered  recluse  who 
unrestrainedly  piled  speculat'on  upon  speculation,  with  the 
slenderest  basis  of  observed  fact.  The  student  of  Kant  "knows 
that  his  is  not  true, — that  among  all  philosophers  ancient  and 
modern  he  is  unsurpassed  both  for  the  breadth  of  scientific  obser- 
vation which  went  to  the  forming  of  his  views,  and  for  the  rigid 
faithfulness  with  which  he  persisted  in  his  observations  and  re- 
fused to  indulge  in  gratuitous  hypothesis.  To  adopt  a  phrase 
of  the  nature-poets,  never  was  there  a  man  who  more  invariably 
wrote  "with  his  eye  on  the  object."  It  is,  indeed,  inconsequence  of 
impartial  fidelity  to  matter-of-fact,  that  the  volumes  of  his  criti- 
cal philosophy  are  unusually  full  of  naked  paradox — short  of 
formal  contradiction,  no  consideration  could  lead  him  utterly 
to  exclude  a  well  attested  datum  of  experience.  To  this  general 
character  of  his  thought,  the  doctrine  of  the  categories  assuredly 
presents  no  exception.  If  we  can  no  longer  accept  that  doctrine 
in  its  historical  form,  our  dissent  is  due  neither  to  faulty  obser- 
vation in  the  premises  nor  to  fallacy  in  the  reasoning,  but  to  a 
radical  transformation  in  the  whole  body  of  logical  theory  in 
which  the  conception  of  categories  has  its  place.  To  the  array 
of  tolerably  evident  facts  which  the  Kantian  doctrine  represents 
a  respectful  interpretation  must  still  be  given. 

These  facts  may  be  briefly  enumerated  as  follows.  We  are 
in  possession  of  a  number  of  very  general  principles,  to  which 
we  attribute  a  truth  that  is  not  conceived  as  open  to  correction  by 
any  experience;  inasmuch  as  all  the  particulars  of  experience 
are  interpreted  in  accordance  with  these  principles,  and  any  ob- 
servation which  apparently  contradicted  them  would  rather  itself 
be  denied  than  cause  a  modification  in  these  principles.  These 
principles  are  obviously  synthetic,  and  thus  open  to  formal  ques- 
tioning, and  no  demonstration  of  their  truth  can  be  given;  but 
they  constitute  the  most  comprehensive  organization  of  our  expe- 
rience, and  it  is  in  this  function  that  their  validity  consists.  The 
reality  of  phenomena  in  our  experience  has  no  further  assignable 
meaning  than  their  conformity  to  these  most  general  conditions 
of  experience. 


"Ml 


•i 


i 


214 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


How  these  facts  were  interpreted  by  Kant  need  not  now  con- 
cern us,  except  to  note  that  in  that  interpretation  the  possibility 
of  an  evolutionary  explanation  of  them  was  definitely  excluded. 
Herein  Kant  remained  a  rationalist.     Thought,  for  him,  must 
operate  with  concepts,  to  which  the  laws  of  contradiction  and  of 
the  excluded  middle  applied  absolutely  and  without  reservation. 
That,  measured  by  such  a  standard,  the  fundamental  categories 
of  the  understanding  should  be  false— that  the  unity  of  experience 
which  they  mediated  should  be  imperfect— was  not  for  him  a  real 
possibility.     His  problem  did  not  include  it.     Thus  the  scepti- 
cism which  he  refuted  was  one  which  left  the  analytical  judgment 
unquestioned.     It  was  only  the  fact  of  synthesis  that  suggested 
doubt,  and  this  only  in  so  far  as  universality  was  claimed  for  it. 
The  very  enterprise  with  which  the  Transcendental  Analytic  sets 
out— the  formation  of  a  definitive  and  complete  list  of  categories, 
as  if  that  were  a  thinkable  performance— is  sufficient  to  indicate 
his  attitude  in  the  matter.     And  the  completeness  of  the  list 
in    which    the  metaphysical   deduction  issues  is  an  important 
premise  in  the  later  argument.     It  is  upon  this  that  the  indis- 
pensability,  and  hence  the  unquestionable  validity,  of  the  cate- 
gories depends.     These  and  no  others  must  perform  the  function 
which  they  perform— because  there  are  no  others. 

In  place  of  this  persistent  dogmatism,  we  would  rather  observe 
that  when  a  succession  of  concepts  appears,  each  of  which  has 
arisen  as  a  modification  of  the  preceding  complex,  a  certain 
relative  stability  belongs  to  the  earlier  members.  Not  as  if 
temporal  priority  gave  a  logical  priority  in  the  ordinary  sense  of 
the  term ;  for  the  later  does  not  come  as  a  mere  accretion  to  the 
earlier,  but  as  a  modification  of  it  which  goes  to  the  formation 
of  a  more  complex  unity.  But  the  earlier  has  nevertheless  this 
preference:  that,  as  the  further  revision  of  the  complex  becomes 
necessary,  this  takes  place,  as  far  as  possible,  in  the  later  elements; 
and  only  such  portion  of  the  correction  as  cannot  be  made  here 
is  passed  back  farther  and  farther,  until  the  disturbing  conditions 
are  satisfied.    This,  indeed,  appears  to  be  a  general  characteristic 


PRAGMATISM   AND    THE   FORM    OF   THOUGHT         21 5 

of  all  evolution,  and  forms  a  part,  at  least,  of  what  is  commonly 
alluded  to  as  the  'continuity*  of  the  process.  It  may,  therefore, 
naturally  be  expected,  that  among  our  concepts  there  are  certain 
ones  which  are  not  observably  affected  in  the  course  of  ordinary 
experience,  and  thus  stand  to  the  whole  of  our  thought  as  nearly 
as  possible  in  the  relation  of  an  a  priori  ground.  Such  we  may 
well  enough  designate  the  'categories'  of  our  thought;  but  they 
will  obviously  lack  certain  of  the  important  characteristics  that 
have  traditionally  been  associated  with  this  term.  They  are  not 
forms  of  thought  as  distinguished  from  its  content;  they  are  not 
final  or  unmodifiable;  we  cannot  affirm  that  they  are  true  of  all 
possible  experience.  In  short,  they  are  to  be  distinguished  by  no 
hard  and  fast  line  from  the  other  concepts  of  the  understanding. 

What,  then,  is  the  practical  use  of  the  distinction?  Simply 
this:  that,  when  we  try  to  give  an  account  of  the  concepts  which 
appear  to  be  fundamental  in  all  our  thinking,  we  find  that  they 
form  a  quite  closely  articulated  system — not  so  perfect,  doubtless, 
as  the  absolute  idealist  would  have  had  us  believe,  but  still  a 
system,  and  the  most  permanent  factor  in  our  thought.  If  we, 
then,  regard  our  present  knowledge  as  a  cross-section  of  an  evolu- 
tionary process — a  loose  procedure,  if  judged  by  too  scrupulous 
a  standard,  for  our  present  knowledge  continues  its  development 
while  we  inspect  it;  but  none  the  less  a  necessary  procedure — 
the  system  of  categories  stands  out  as  an  a  priori  element  in  our 
thinking,  a  pure  form  of  thought,  logically  prior  to  all  the  par- 
ticularity of  experience.  That  is  to  say,  we  find  ourselves  vir- 
tually at  the  standpoint  of  the  critical  philosophy — with  this 
exception,  indeed,  that  we  do  not  regard  it  as  an  ultimate  stand- 
point, and  hence  no  longer  expect  a  self-sufficient  completeness 
in  the  view  of  reality  which  it  affords.  In  the  sense  of  this 
exception,  the  critical  standpoint  has,  we  believe,  been  trans- 
cended; but  we  must  still  return  to  it  for  observations  of  the 
utmost  scientific  importance. 

It  is  in  this  light  that  we  must  regard  the  logical  researches  of 
Kant's  successors,  and  in  particular  those  of  Hegel.     We  have 


2l6 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


already  expressed  our  reasons  for  the  opinion,  that,  in  spite  of 
important  divergences,  Hegel's  epistemology  is  still  fairly  to  be 
classed  as  a  form  of  rationalism.     Although  more  to  him  than 
to  any  other  man  is  due  the  elaboration  of  the  logical  conceptions 
which  appertain  to  general  evolutionary  theory;  and  though  he 
applied  these  conceptions  with  wonderful  insight  to  the  study  of 
the  development  of  thought;  yet  that  development,  as  he  con- 
ceived it,  was  a  movement  within  a  system,  not  of  a  system,  for 
the  system  as  such  was  completely  determined  by  its  absolute 
end.     For  this  reason  he  could  not  dispense  with  the  essentially 
rationalistic  conception  of  pure— that  is  to  say,  a  priori— thought, 
and  whatever  may  be  conceived  to  have  been  the  psychological 
history  of  his  logic,  it  stands  in  its  full  rounded  completeness  as 
a  schema  to  which  nature  and  spirit  universally  conform.     But, 
when  the  extravagances  to  which  his  absolutism  led  him  are,  as 
well  as  may  be  set  aside,  and  the  Science  of  Logic  is  viewed  as  a 
provisional  solution  of  a  problem,  which,  from  the  terms  in  which 
it  is  stated,  can  never  be  adequately  solved,  it  becomes  a  treasure- 
house  of  inestimable  wisdom,  which  the  pragmatist,  of  all  men, 
cannot  afford  to  despise. 


APPENDICES 


I 


APPENDIX   I 


THE   PRAGMATIC    METHOD,    THE   WILL-TO-BELIEVE, 
AND    HUMANISM,    IMMEDIATISM 

In  almost  all  expositions  of  pragmatism  that  have  received 
wide  attention,  a  foremost  place  has  been  given  to  the  so-called 
'pragmatic  method/  In  spite  of  this  prominence,  the  method 
has  been,  of  all  parts  of  the  pragmatists'  program,  the  most 
generally  misunderstood  both  by  the  larger  public  and  by  the 
technical  reviewers.  How  far  the  expositors  have  been  to  blame, 
and  how  far  the  incautious  readers,  we  need  not  determine.  But 
we  shall  try  to  profit  by  the  experience  of  others,  by  putting 
into  italics  a  warning  against  the  commonest  misunderstanding. 

The  pragmatic  method  is  a  method  of  explanation,  not  of  proof. 
It  is  used  to  determine  the  meaning  of  propositions;  hut,  except  in 
cases  where  it  turns  out  that  the  proposition  has  no  meaning  at  all, 
the  truth  or  falsity  of  the  proposition  is  not  brought  into  question. 
It  is  true  that  the  results  of  the  exposition  may  be  seized  upon 
by  the  *will-to-believe,'  and  the  alternative  of  truth  or  falsity 
may  be  thus  settled;  but  that  is  a  further  distinct  step. 

The  method  is  based  upon  the  following  assumption:  that 
every  distinction  in  meaning  between  ideas  is  a  distinction  be- 
tween possibly  desirable  modes  of  conduct.  //  is  inferred,  that 
the  meaning  of  a  proposition  may  be  determined  by  showing 
the  differences  in  conduct  which  its  truth  or  falsity  would  call  for; 
while  a  proposition  whose  truth  or  falsity  can  under  no  con- 
ceivable circumstances  affect  the  conduct  of  anyone  is  meaning- 
less. Thus  the  meaning  of  the  existence  of  God  is  that  a  man 
should  persevere  in  right  conduct,  despite  the  apparent  triumph 
of  evil ;  and  the  meaning  of  the  freedom  of  the  will  is  that  a  man 
should  not  commit  suicide  from  fear  of  ennui,  but  live  in  the 
expectation  of  continual  novelties. 

219 


ill 


220 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


Suppose  the  fundamental  assumption  to  be  correct.^  The 
method  is  nevertheless  defective.  It  prescribes  no  means  of 
determining  whether  the  differences  in  conduct  that  are  pomted 
out  are  the  only  ones  that  can  arise  from  the  truth  or  falsity 
of  the  proposition,  or  even  that  they  are  the  sole  important 
differences.  A  meaning  is  discovered ;  but  no  assurance  is  given 
that  this  is  the  whole  meaning,  or  even  the  principal  ineanmg 
of  the  proposition.  Hence,  even  though  the  instrumental  theory 
of  meaning  be  correct,  the  pragmatic  method  is  intnnsically 

fallacious. 

A  possible  exception  to  this  general  fallaciousness  remains. 

If  it  is  indeed  demonstrable  that  the  truth  or  falsity  of  a  given 
proposition  could  in  no  way  affect  the  advisability  of  conduct, 
the  proposition  must,  upon  the  instrumental  theory,  be  meaning- 
less     But  when  we  examine  the  illustrations  of  this  contingency 
that  are  given  by  pragmatists,  it  becomes  clear  that  the  prag- 
matic method  is  entirely  non-essential  to  them.    What  is  in- 
variably  proved  is  that  the  proposition  in  question  cannot  be 
confirmed  or  contradicted  by  any  conceivable  experience;  that 
is  to  say,  whether  the  proposition  is  true  or  false,  no  possible 
experience  would  be  different.     In  the  words  of  the  well-known 
formula  (already  quoted),  there  is  no  difference  m  the    sensations 
to  be  expected,"  and  hence  no  difference  in  the    reactions  that 
are  to  be  prepared."     But  in  such  a  case  the  proposition  is 
meaningless,  not  only  upon  specifically  P-^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
on  the  basis  of  a  pre-evolutionary  empiricism.     In  fact,  Berke 
ley's  proof  of  the  meaninglessness  of  the  assumption  of  material 
substance-that  it  is  incapable  of  verification  or  disproo-^^^^ 
hailed  by  the  pragmatists  as  an  admirable  application  of  their 
method.     But  the  reference  to  conduct  is  altogether  lacking. 
Now  it  is  true  that  where  there  is  no  difference  in  the  phenomenon 
there  can  be  none  in  the  behavior  which  it  calls  for;  so  that  the 
practical  reference  can  be  freely  supplied  if  one  wishes.     But  it 

.It  should  be  noted,  however,  that  this  involves  an  isolation  of  'import'  from 
•content.'  which  we  can  by  no  means  admit. 


WILL-TO-BELIEVE 


221 


is  a  mere  addendum,  which  contributes  nothing  to  the  force  of 
the  argument. 

The  pragmatic  method,  then,  is  either  fallacious  or  superfluous. 

In  current  philosophical  literature  the  name  'pragmatism*  has 
been  used  to  cover  any  sort  of  attempt  to  eliminate  ambiguity 
in  the  use  of  terms — perhaps  from  the  conviction  that  any  other 
mode  of  thought  is  at  bottom  mere  verbalism.  Thus  the  dis- 
tinction of  various  senses  in  which  the  world  may  be  said  to  be 
'one*  or  'many*  is  called  pragmatic,  though  it  is  carried  on  as  the 
veriest  scholastic  would  require.  To  'go  around'  an  animal  may 
mean  to  go  north  and  east  and  south  and  west  of  him ;  or  it  may 
mean  to  go  in  front,  on  one  side,  in  the  rear,  and  on  the  other 
side  of  him;  and  to  note  the  two-fold  usage — though  without 
the  remotest  suggestion  of  any  practical  difference  to  the  animal 
or  his  satellite — is  called  pragmatism.  But  this  simply  robs  the 
term  of  any  controversial  importance;  and  it  has  no  warrant 
in  the  formal  descriptions  of  the  method,  given  by  its  advocates. 

A  second  feature  of  pragmatism,  which  we  believe  to  be  foreign 
to  its  deeper  spirit,  but  which  is  popularly  regarded  as  constitut- 
ing its  very  essence,  is  the  theory  of  the  *will-to-believe.*  It  may 
be  formulated  as  follows :  Where  alternative  hypotheses  are  pre- 
sented, whose  probability,  so  far  as  determined  by  existing  evi- 
dence, seems  fairly  equal;  and  where  tfie  belief  in  the  one  alter- 
native, were  it  verified  by  the  event,  would  produce  a  satisfaction 
so  far  greater  than  would  in  any  case  follow  either  from  un- 
certainty or  from  the  acceptance  of  the  other  alternative,  that 
any  relative  deficiency  of  happiness  which  might  arise  from  the 
acceptance  of  the  former,  in  case  it  were  not  verified,  would  be 
negligible  in  comparison ;  there  a  belief  in  the  former  hypothesis 
is  warranted — that  is  to  say,  the  former  hypothesis  may  rightly 
be  regarded  as  indefinitely  the  more  probable. 

It  must  be  noted  that  the  above  statement  of  the  theory  differs 
in  one  important  respect  from  Professor  James*s  enunciation. 
We  have  omitted  the  proviso  that  a  choice  of  alternatives  be 


222 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


necessary;  for  we  cannot  see  that  this  is  ever  the  case.     Where 
a  question  is  possible,  doubt  is  always  possible.     But  it  is  said 
that  to  doubt  may  be  practically  the  same  as  to  accept  one  or 
other  of  the  given  alternatives.     This  is  true;  and  if  the  theory 
in  question  referred  to  the  wisdom  of  action  instead  of  the  validity 
of  belief,  we  should  have  no  quarrel  with  it.     But  we  must  not 
confuse  the  acting  on  a  chance  with  a  confidence  in  the  outcome. 
Hence  in  our  statement  of  the  will-to-believe  principle,  we  have 
included  the  state  of  doubt  as  a  third  real  possibility;  grouping  it, 
however,  with  the  acceptance  of  one  of  the  alternatives  in  such 
a  way  as  to  leave  the  pragmatist  position  virtually  unchanged. 
It  must  next  be  noted  that,  according  to  the  premises  laid 
down,  the  happiness  consequent  upon  belief  is  supposed  to  be 
directly  thus  consequent— not  an  after-effect  of  conduct  dictated 
by  the  belief,  but  the  immediate  effect  of  the  belief  itself.     For 
if  the  happiness  were  supposed  to  flow  from  a  course  of  conduct, 
then  that  same  course  of  conduct  would  be  equally  dictated  by 
an  uncertainty  in  the  matter.     That  is  to  say,  of  two  conflicting 
courses  of  conduct,  having  apparently  equal  chances  of  success 
or  failure,  a  man  would  wisely  choose  the  one  which  promised 
the  greater  gain  in  proportion  to  the  risk  involved,  even  though 
he  had  not  the  least  confidence  that  a  favorable  rather  than 
an  unfavorable  issue  would  result.     In  other  words,  an  absolute 
uncertainty  as  to  the  result  would  logically  warrant  the  same 
course  of  conduct  as  would  be  warranted  by  an  entire  conviction 
as  to  the  certainty  of  a  favorable  outcome.     The  happiness  pro- 
posed must,  therefore,  be  conceived  to  be  a  direct  fruit  of  the 
belief  as  such.     How  far  this  is  removed  from  the  spirit  of  prag- 
matism need  not  be  emphasized. 

In  order  to  escape  this  interpretation  a  new  premise  must  be 
added  to  those  above  specified;  namely,  that  even  though  the 
same  conduct  might  be  dictated  by  belief  and  by  doubt,  yet  only 
the  belief  in  the  particular  outcome  could  so  strengthen  a  man 
as  to  enable  him  to  act  in  the  manner  necessary  for  success. 
Now  this  is  by  no  means  an  impossible  supposition,  and  it  is 


WILL-TO-BELIEVE 


22S 


one  that  is  made  without  hesitation  by  pragmatist  writers.  And 
yet  we  question  whether  any  particular  instance  can  be  cited, 
in  which  this  supposition  can  with  any  assurance  be  said  to  be 
realized.  Fanaticism  has,  indeed,  a  very  considerable  degree  of 
strength;  but  so  has  a  cool,  self -restrained  balance  of  judgment. 
It  is  well  enough  to  say  in  general  terms  that  confidence  in  success 
may  be  the  one  thing  necessary  to  assure  success;  but  it  would 
require  the  prescience  of  a  writer  of  fiction  to  determine  such  a 
case.  For  the  truth,  after  all,  is  notorious,  that  though  con- 
fidence is  a  good  thing,  it  is  likewise  an  exceedingly  dangerous 
thing. 

In  any  case,  however,  it  is  worth  while  remarking  that  this 
peculiar  validation  of  belief  takes  place  only  when  evidence  to 
the  contrary  does  not  exist.  It  is  only  where  a  free  field  is 
open  to  it  that  it  can  accomplish  anything;  but  then  its  efiicacy 
is  extraordinary.  Without  exaggeration  we  may  say  that  in  its 
relation  to  actual  evidence  it  constitutes  a  dualism  of  orders  of 
truth  Accordingly,  the  scientific  procedure  which  it  suggests 
consists  of  two  distinct  steps.  In  the  first  place,  one  must  find 
whether  a  free  scope  for  the  will-to-believe  exists,  that  is  to  say, 
whether  there  is  a  practically  entire  absence  (or  balance)  of 
evidence  on  the  subject;  and,  in  the  second  place,  if  one  feels 
so  inclined,  one  takes  the  voluntary  step  of  putting  faith  in  the 
alternative  preferred. 

A  familiar  example  may  serve  to  make  this  point  clearer.  Let 
us  suppose  that  it  is  the  doctrine  of  human  immortality  which 
the  pragmatist  proposes  to  establish.  The  general  conformity 
of  the  doctrine  to  the  conditions  above  laid  down  is  as  close  as 
one  could  expect.  The  belief  is  capable  of  producing  in  many 
minds  (possibly,  therefore,  in  the  mind  of  the  reasoner)  a  great 
and  lasting  satisfaction  which  is  sufficient  to  outweigh  many  of 
the  evils  of  life ;  and  if  it  prove  in  the  event  to  have  been  illusory, 
any  possible  ill  effects  are  cut  short  at  the  same  time.  The 
fearful  misery  which  a  belief  in  immortality  may  bring  upon 
society  in  this  world,  in  consequence  of  a  possible  distortion  of 


224 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


the  values  of  things,  may  be  regarded  as  negligible.  The  two 
steps  of  the  pragmatist^s  procedure  are  then  quite  clear.  In  the 
first  place,  he  feels  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  meet  pertinent 
objections  to  the  doctrine;  and  this  is  done  according  to  the 
ordinary  methods  of  logical  procedure.  But  when  this  is  success- 
fully accomplished,  he  then,  in  the  second  place,  cuts  the  processes 
of  reasoning  short,  and,  with  a  distinct  and  final  act  of  belief, 
commits  himself  without  question   to   the   supremely  valued 

dogma. 

Now  how  is  it  that  this  curious  theory  has  become  identified 
with  that  great  leveler  of  all  dualisms,  pragmatism?  A  super- 
ficial resemblance  is  not  far  to  seek.  According  to  the  functional 
conception  of  truth  upon  which  pragmatism  is  based,  the  validity 
of  a  proposition  depends  upon  its  satisfactoriness  as  a  working- 
hypothesis  in  the  accomplishment  of  intelligent  purposes;  it  is 
true  'when  it  works.'  And  according  to  the  will-to-believe 
theory,  too,  the  belief  is  true  because  it  'works' ;  but  its  working 
means,  not  its  verification  in  the  successful  accomplishment  of 
intelligent  designs,  but  simply  the  pleasantness  of  the  idea  itself, 
or  the  encouragement  given  by  it. 

In  short,  the  will-to-believe,  instead  of  going  to  substantiate 
the  essential  doctrine  of  pragmatism,  that  logical  validity  is 
throughout  conditioned  by  interests  and  values,  implies,  by  the 
very  particularity  and  circumstantiality  of  the  connection  which 
it  asserts,  that  no  more  complete  and  intimate  union  between 
them  exists.  In  this  respect,  the  will-to-believe  presents  an  in- 
structive analogy  to  the  transcendent  ideas,  by  means  of  which 
Kant  attempted  to  bridge  the  gap  between  theoretical  and  prac- 
tical reason.  In  each  case,  the  resort  to  special  means  of  con- 
nection is  a  confession  of  the  utter  divorce  of  reason  and  will 

assumed  at  the  outset. 

At  bottom,  the  will-to-believe  theor>^  is  a  relapse  into  dogma- 
tism. Somewhere,  it  is  felt,  amid  the  sea  of  fleeting  experiences 
an  anchorage  must  be  found;  and  if  within  the  limits  of  logical 
thought  no  firm  bottom  can  be  reached,  then  it  must  be  sought 


HUMANISM 


225 


for  in  feeling  or  in  will.     Upon  the  hopelessness  and  the  useless- 
ness  of  such  a  procedure  we  shall  not  dwell. 


The  word  'humanism'  has  been  used  in  recent  philosophical 
discussion,  in  a  variety  of  senses,  which  our  present  purpose 
does  not  require  us  to  enumerate  and  distinguish.  In  its  widest 
sense  it  includes  every  attempt  or  tendency  to  interpret  the 
macrocosm  in  terms  derived  from  the  analysis  of  the  microcrosm. 
According  to  this  interpretation,  Augustine  and  Campanella  are 
humanists  par  excellence.  Taken  more  narrowly,  it  may  denote 
the  pragmatist  theory  of  reality  that  was  outlined  in  a  previous 
chapter;  the  theory,  namely,  that  was  condensed  into  the  for- 
mula, that  the  real  is  the  object  of  interest.  We  propose  to  use 
it  here  in  a  sense  which  must  be  carefully  distinguished  from  both 
of  these,  the  rather  because  in  recent  controversy  it  has  been 
closely  associated  with  them.  It  is  the  theory  that  all  reality 
is  to  some  extent  man-made,  and  hence  may  be — to  an  extent 
to  be  discovered  only  by  actual  trial — modified  and  controlled  by 
human  efforts. 

We  shall  try  to  show  that  this  theory  has  only  a  very  limited 
controversial  significance ;  that  it  is  wholly  unsupported  by  evi- 
dence and  is  without  possible  application;  in  short,  that  upon 
admitted  pragmatist  principles  it  is  meaningless — though  not 
more  so  than  the  doctrines  which  it  opposes. 

The  most  prominent  of  these  is  a  degenerate  Hegelianism, 
which  finds  some  support  in  the  writings  of  the  master,  but 
really  amounts  to  an  exaggeration  of  his  weakest  traits — accord- 
ing to  which  the  absolute  exists  complete  in  the  temporal  present. 
In  our  opinion  this  view  is  not  worthy  of  serious  discussion, 
except  upon  the  ground  of  its  supposed  wide  acceptance  by 
teachers  of  philosophy;  and  we  believe  that  most  of  those  to 
whom  it  is  attributed  would  upon  a  direct  challenge  repudiate  it. 
The  absolute  of  Hegel's  philosophy  is  the  evolving  universe,  not 
at  a  single  point  of  time,  but  conceived  as  embracing  its  whole 
development.  What  it  is  now  is  merely  a  step  toward  what  it 
16 


226  DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 

is  to  be  It  is  eternal  in  the  sense  that  in  its  development  it  is 
wholly  self-determined.  Hegel  interprets  this  last  statement  as 
implying  that  the  development  is  logical  rather  than  temporal; 
the  historical  process,  he  finds,  contains  much  that  is  irrevelant 
and  non-essential.  But  it  is  a  caricature  of  his  teachmgs  to 
declare  that  the  entire  development  exists  now,  except  m  the  sense 
in  which  the  oak  is  present  in  the  acorn.  And  apart  from  con- 
siderations extracted  from  Hegel's  works  we  are  aware  of  no 
inducement  that  has  been  offered  for  the  acceptance  of  such  a 

doctrine.  •  ^  -     ^u 

In  insisting  upon  the  reality  of  change,  the  humanist  is  thus 
in  partial  agreement  with  absolute  idealism.  Accordmg  to  the 
latter,  some  change  is  real  (or  actual,  if  we  hold  to  the  more 
precise  Hegelian  terminology) ,  namely,  evolution.  Indeed ,  Hegel 
in  his  day  believed  his  philosophy  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
older  rationalism,  by  his  acceptance  of  a  developing  reality;  and 
the  criticisms  which  his  dialectic  had  then,  as  more  recently, 
to  endure  from  conservative  thinkers  are  exceedingly  similar 
to  some  which  his  present-day  successors  are  urging  against 

humanism.  .  .  .  , 

The  radical  difference  between  the  humamstic  position  and 
absolute  idealism  lies  between  the  pluralism  of  the  former  and 
the  monism  of  the  latter.     Even  this  difference  may  easily  be 
exaggerated.     It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  Hegel  believed  in 
the  presence  of  an  element  of  contingency  m  all  phenomena, 
though  he  regarded  this  as  merely  evanescent.     Only  the  rational, 
that  which  is  bound  up  with  the  constitution  of  the  universe, 
could  endure.    The  humanist,  on  the  other  hand,  believes  that 
the  universe  contains  within  itself  agencies  which  are  not  com- 
pletely determined  in  their  activity  by  the  universe  as  a  whole, 
but  which  may,  to  an  indefinite  extent,  affect  the  future  history 
of  the  universe.     That  is  to  say,  humanism  (in  the  sense  here 
treated)  is  a  theory  of  the  freedom  of  the  will.    The  distinctive 
character  of  the  theory  comes  from  its  supposed  connection  with 
the  pragmatist  logic— to  which  we  must  now  turn. 


HUMANISM 


227 


The  connection  is  made  out  in  several  ways,  which  require 
separate  examination. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  held  that  a  complete  determinism  is  a 
mere  rationalistic  assumption,  exalted  into  an  axiom  that  is  not 
subject  to  correction  by  any  evidence;  while  an  indeterminism, 
which  leaves  the  relative  scope  of  freedom  and  necessity  open  to 
empirical  enquiry,  and  is  satisfied  with  any  amount  of  indeter- 
mination  above  absolute  zero,  is  relatively  open-minded.  The 
latter  theory  is,  therefore,  the  one  which  the  pragmatist,  holding 
to  the  practical  character  of  all  knowledge,  is  bound  to  prefer; 
though  the  former  is  not  excluded  as  an  utter  impossibility. 

In  reply  we  should  call  attention  to  the  fact  that  no  experiment 
can  be  imagined,  the  result  of  which  would  be  noticeably  different 
according  as  one  or  other  of  the  opposed  theories  was  true.  So 
far,  then,  from  entertaining  a  preference  for  one  or  the  other 
theory,  pragmatism  (like  any  other  thorough-going  empiricism) 
ought  to  regard  the  difference  between  them  as  illusory.  Such, 
upon  a  closer  examination,  we  find  to  be  the  case.  The  crux  of  the 
matter  lies  in  the  unlimited  indefiniteness  of  the  term  'determina- 
tion' and  its  equivalents  and  correlatives,  such  as  'causation'  and 
'necessity.'  Determination,  as  we  know  it,  is  of  various  types, 
under  various  conditions.  These  types  are  not  related  to  each 
other  as  species  of  a  precisely  definable  genus,  but  as  analogous 
forms  for  which  a  proper  genus  remains  to  be  found,  and  to 
which  additions  may  be  made  that  call  for  modification  of  the 
genus.  Consider  in  this  connection  a  few  of  the  meanings  which 
have  attached  to  the  term  'causality.'  It  is  the  communication 
of  motion  by  impact;  or  the  relation  of  premise  to  conclusion;  or 
the  relation  of  antecedent  to  consequent  in  a  uniform  succession ; 
or  the  transformation  of  energy:  the  only  causes  are  moving 
bodies;  or  spirits;  or  ideas;  or  emotions;  or  truths;  or  events: 
there  may  be  distinct  chains  of  causation;  or  the  only  proper 
connection  may  be  between  the  universe  as  a  whole  at  different 
moments;  or  there  may  be  distinct  initiations  of  causal  activity, 
though  the  scope  of  their  effects  is  forthwith  universal.     Never 


228 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


was  there  an  axiom  more  stoutly  maintained,  or  more  empty  of 
definite  signification,  than  the  so-called  law  of  cause  and  effect. 
Kant  (in  the  first  edition  of  his  Critique  of  Pure  Reason)  an- 
nounced as  an  a  priori  principle  of  the  understanding:  "Every- 
thing that  happens  (begins  to  be)  presupposes  something  upon 
which  it  follows  according  to  a  rule."  Probably  few  living 
scholars  would  accept  this  formula  as  absolutely  true.  It  ap- 
pears, for  example,  to  imply  the  existence  of  distinct  chains  of 

causation. 

What,  then,  of  the  strife  between  determinism  and  indeter- 
minism?  If  any  particular  type  of  determination  is  specified, 
the  latter  has  the  advantage.  To  declare,  for  example,  that  all 
change  is  interpretable  as  the  transformation  of  energy  is  to 
commit  oneself  to  a  dogma  of  at  least  doubtful  probability. 
But  if  no  type  is  specified,  and  determination  means  anything 
and  everything  to  which  analogy  may  ever  lead  us  to  apply 
the  term,  the  determinist  has  the  advantage— such  as  it  is.  In 
fact,  the  history  of  the  controversy  contains  repeated  instances 
of  the  claiming  by  the  one  party  as  determination  (or  freedom) 
of  what  had  been  previously  advanced  in  the  opposite  sense  by 

their  opponents. 

The  real  significance  of  the  law  of  causality,  or  the  law  of 
reciprocal  determination,  is  as  a  methodological  postulate.  It 
means  that  in  our  endeavor  to  explain  the  world,  we  regard  no 
datum  as  absolutely  inexplicable.  And  as  explanation  at  any 
stage  of  scientific  development  must  operate  by  means  of  the 
categories  available  at  that  stage,  practically  this  amounts  to 
saying  that  the  categories  we  already  possess  are  equal  to  the 
entire  explication  of  the  universe.  If  this  be  false,  yet  it  is  by 
acting  as  if  it  were  true,  by  carrying  our  hypotheses  through  to 
the  bitter  end,  that  their  inadequacy  becomes  evident  and  their 
development  proceeds. 

In  the  second  place,  it  is  urged  that  all  the  realities  we  know 
have  come  into  being  by  the  very  same  process  by  which  our 
knowledge  of  them  has  developed.     This,  it  is  affirmed,  is  the 


HUMANISM 


229 


i 


great  lesson  of  pragmatism.  The  making  of  truth  (i,  e.,  the 
forming  of  true  beliefs)  and  the  making  of  reality  are  aspects  ot 
one  process,  namely,  the  development  of  intelligent  behavior. 
Having  such  an  origin,  reality  is  necessarily  (or  presumably) 
plastic  in  relation  to  human  effort. 

So  far  as  we  can  perceive,  the  evidences  upon  which  pragmatism 
is  founded  justify  no  such  interpretation  of  its  leading  doctrine. 
A  simple  example  will  help  to  make  this  clear.  Crusoe,  observing 
the  footprint  in  the  sand,  becomes  aware  of  the  presence  of  at  least 
one  man  in  his  vicinity.  This  man  exists /or  Crusoe  in  the  sense 
that  he  must  be  seriously  taken  account  of  in  the  future.  But 
Crusoe  is  aware  that  the  man  existed  and  was  in  the  vicinity 
before  he  discovered  him;  yes,  that  he  existed  for  him  in  the 
very  important  sense  that  if  they  had  met  a  variety  of  interesting 
consequences  might  have  ensued — say  a  fight  to  the  death,  or 
the  succor  of  a  friendly  bark.  The  case  is  a  typical  one,  and  the 
generalization  is  easy.  The  making  of  truth  is  the  discovery  of 
reality,  not  the  making  of  it — except  in  the  sense  that  enlarging 
knowledge  establishes  a  new  and  very  real  relation  between  the 
knower  and  the  object  known,  from  which  results  of  importance 
to  both  may  spring.  An  object  not  known  is  not  less  real  (may 
easily  be  far  more  dangerous)  than  an  object  known. 

Perhaps  this  is  too  obvious  to  be  conclusive.  Are  not  all  the 
realities  of  which  we  have  knowledge  man-made?  Is  not  the 
best  assured  of  them  liable  to  be  condemned  tomorrow  to  un- 
reality ;  and  may  not  the  progress  of  science  transform  the  worst 
of  unrealities — ghosts  and  spirit- tappings — into  genuine  realities? 
Perhaps ;  but  such  a  change  is  never,  by  science  or  common  sense, 
regarded  as  taking  place  in  the  real  object;  except,  again,  as 
knowing  and  being  known  are  real  conditions.  We  do  not  say 
of  the  demolished  myth  that  it  was  real,  but  that  it  seemed  so; 
it  was  our  deception  that  was  real. 

In  the  third  place,  we  are  reminded  that  the  real  is  the  object 
of  interest.  Every  reality  is  strictly  relative  to  human  character, 
to  human  desires  and  aversions.     Hence  it  must  change  at  our 


230 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


IMMEDIATISM 


231 


will,  perhaps  more,  perhaps  less,  but  certainly  to  an  appreciable 

extent. 

The  argument  is  fallacious,  but  it  conceals  a  truth  which  has 
been  highly  estimated  by  the  moral  sages  of  ancient  and  modern 
times.     Let  us  consider  the  truth  first.     The  importance  of  a 
thing  for  our  happiness  depends  upon  our  volitional  attitude 
toward  it.     If  we  can  maintain  our  indifference  to  the  thing  and 
its  consequences,  it  is  in  so  far  nothing  to  us.     The  traveler  is 
not  lost  if  he  does  not  care  to  find  his  way;  the  peasant  is  not 
poor,  if  his  wants  do  not  exceed  his  income.     It  is  easy  to  multiply 
examples.     Buddha,  Antisthenes,  and  Rousseau,  and  countless 
lesser  preachers  have  sufficiently  familiarized  us  with  the  prin- 
ciple.    But  let  us  not  mistake  its  scope.    The  object  of  interest 
may  be  pleasurable  or  painful.     It  is  equally  real  in  either  case. 
And  in  neither  case  does  the  fact  that  it  is  of  interest  to  us  make 
it  forthwith  amenable  to  our  control. 

So  much  by  way  of  criticism  of  the  supposed  foundations  of 
humanism.  Let  us  append  a  few  queries  with  regard  to  the 
significance  of  the  doctrine  itself. 

Humanism  asserts  the  reality  of  change;  and  finding  that 
change  in  a  deterministic  universe  leaves  the  laws  of  change, 
and  hence  certain  fundamental  characteristics  of  the  changing 
substances,  unchanged,  it  declares  that  change  in  such  a  universe 
is  illusory.  Now  would  a  change  in  the  laws  of  change  take  place 
in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  change,  or  not?  And  would  a 
change  in  the  fundamental  characteristics  of  substance  be  char- 
acteristic of  the  substance,  or  not? 

It  declares  for  the  efficacy  of  human  purposes.  Is  this  a  plea 
for  a  psychophysical  interactionism?  If  so,  it  has  weighty  bio- 
logical support.     But  we  feel  vaguely  that  it  is  intended  to  mean 

something  more. 

It  urges  us  to  assert  our  freedom  by  freely  willing  and  strivmg 
for  what  seems  good  to  us.  Is  it  possible  to  strive  intelligently 
except  in  accordance  with  the  admitted  laws  of  nature?  Is  it 
possible  to  strive  to  change  a  law  of  nature?  If  we  succeeded 
in  changing  one,  how  would  we  be  aware  of  the  fact? 


If  these  questions  seem  unmotived,  the  reader  is  not  widely 
acquainted  with  the  recent  literature  of  humanism. 

Our  attitude  toward  the  theory  of  immediatism  commonly 
held  by  pragmatists  has  been  several  times  indicated  in  the  course 
of  the  preceding  discussions.     It  remains  for  us  to  formulate  it 

definitely. 

Immediatism  may  be  broadly  defined  as  holding  that  reality, 
or  the  real,  is  identical  with  immediate  experience  (or  pure  ex- 
perience, or  experience  in  its  immediacy),  and  cannot  be  ade- 
quately described  in  conceptual  terms.  When  we  try  to  make 
this  definition  more  precise,  we  find  that  'immediate  experience' 
(or  'pure  experience')  is  used  by  pragmatist  writers  in  two  senses 
which  seem  not  to  be  carefully  distinguished.  In  the  first  sense, 
it  is  used  (by  Mr.  James)  to  denote  the  genetically  primary  stuff 
from  which  all  experience,  and  especially  reflective  experience, 
develops.  None  of  us  ever  has  pure  experience,  except  in  a  relative 
application  of  the  term.  It  is  most  closely  approximated  in  the 
experience  of  the  new-born  babe  or  the  semi-coma  of  a  man. 
Taken  relatively,  the  term  is  applied  to  our  more  passive  states, 
where  thinking  is  at  its  lowest  ebb  and  we  are  as  far  as  possible 
immersed  in  mere  sensation.  In  this  relative  application,  im- 
mediate experience  is  a  kind  of  experience  which  differs  from  other 
kinds  only  in  degree.  In  the  second  sense  (used  consistently  by 
Mr.  Dewey),  it  is  an  aspect  of  all  experience.  Even  reflective 
thought  is,  as  it  comes,  immediate.  We  shall  here  consider  only 
the  form  of  the  theory  which  takes  the  term  in  the  first  sense.^ 
It  may  be  briefly  set  forth  as  follows: 

The  relatively  pure  experience  of  sensation  is  the  starting- 
point  of  all  our  reflection.  It  is  the  given  reality  to  which  all 
the  conceptual  terms  of  thought  refer.  It  does  not  come,  how- 
ever, as  a  mere  contentless  'that';  but,  "far  back  as  we  go,  the 
flux,  both  as  a  whole  and  in  its  parts,  is  that  of  things  conjunct 
and  separated. "2    As  applied  to  the  content  of  immediate  ex- 

iProfessor  Dewey's  immediatism  is  discussed  in  the  following  appendix. 
'James,  A  Pluralistic  Universe,  p.  349. 


i: 


232 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


!i!l 


perience,  the  terms  'false'  and  'true'  have  no  meaning,  for  in  this 
experience  facts  simply  come  and  are,  with  their  qualities  and 
their  relations.     However,  in  their  given  connections,  the  things 
of  immediate  experience  are  not  altogether  adequate   to   the 
needs  of  human  life.     Their  very  concreteness  and  manifoldness 
make  them  too  cumbersome  for  complicated  uses.     Consequently 
we  schematize  them  in  abstract  conceptual  terms,  with  which 
we  may  perform  all  sorts  of  calculations.     But  the  purpose  of 
these  calculations,  however  complex  they  may  be,  is  to  take 
advantage  of  the  real  things  of  immediate  experience.     The  func- 
tion of  our  concepts  is  not  to  inform  us  of  the  nature  of  reality 
(what  it  is),  but  how  to  use  it.     Thus  it  is  only  in  the  light  of 
this  service  that  we  can  evaluate  them  as  true  or  false.     Thoughts 
or  theories  are  true,  not  because  they  literally  correspond  to 
reality,  but  because  they  represent  it  in  ways  suitable  for  our 
specific  purposes.     The  great  conflicts  of  philosophy  have  arisen 
almost  wholly  because  the  function  of  ideas  has  been  misunder- 
stood.    Treated  as  if  they  really  did  reveal  to  us  the  concrete 
nature  of  reality,  they  inevitably  lead  to  contradiction  and  para- 
dox.    Just  because  they  have  arisen  in  response  to  specific  needs, 
they  are  abstract,  that  is  to  say,  one-sided,  and  so  mutually 
incompatiable.    They  yield   'theoretic'   knowledge,   knowledge 
about  things,  but  are  valueless  for  purposes  of  'speculative'  in- 
sight into  the  real  nature  of  things.     The  philosopher,  then,  if 
he  would  really  know  reality,  must  turn  his  back  upon  truth  and 
plunge  unquestioning  into  the  stream  of  fact. 

We  have  already  expressed  the  opinion,  that  the  weakness 
of  the  modern  empiricist  lies  not  in  too  much  radicalism  but  in 
too  little.  Why  is  conceptual  knowledge  unsatisfactory  to  him? 
Just  because  he  still  clings  to  a  conception  of  absolute  reality 
that  demands  the  very  species  of  truth  against  which  the  whole 
pragmatist  movement  is  in  revolt.  Of  course  our  thoughts  and 
theories  do  not  give  a  speculative  insight  that  is  not  a  knowledge 
about  things,  for  what  possible  use  or  meaning  could  such  insight 
have  ?    The  demand  for  an  insight  which  is  other  than  knowledge- 


IMMEDIATISM 


233 


^ 


I 


about  is  but  a  reformulation  of  a  meaningless  problem, — how 
things-in-themselves  can  be  known. 

The  path  of  evolutionary  doctrine  is  abandoned  in  the  treat- 
ment of  sense-experience,  which  is  only  relatively  pure,  as  if  it 
were  absolutely  so,  and  thus  radically  different  from  conceptual 
experience.  It  is  not  true  to  say  of  any  sensation  that  it  is  just 
an  experience  in  which  facts  come  and  are.  The  fixity  and  deter^ 
minateness  of  the  things  of  sense-experience  is  after  all  only  the 
comparative  fixity  of  any  product  of  evolution.  If  we  ask  the 
pragmatist  himself  how  the  original  pure  experience  of  the  babe 
or  of  the  race  comes  to  be  transformed  into  such  an  experience 
as  ours,  his  answer  is  that  a  simon  pure  experience  can  have  no 
survival  value.  Sentience  has  developed  only  in  so  far  as  the 
pure  experience  has  been  broken  up  and  become  cognitive.  Con- 
sciousness in  us  tends  to  persist  and  extend  because  "the  ten- 
dency of  raw  experience  to  extinguish  the  experient  himself  is 
lessened  just  in  the  degree  in  which  the  elements  in  it  that  have  a 
practical  bearing  upon  life  are  analyzed  out  of  the  continuum  and 
verbally  fixed  and  coupled  together,  so  that  we  may  know  what 
is  in  the  wind  for  us  and  get  ready  to  react  in  time."^  The  diver- 
sified character  of  our  purest  sense-experience  is  thus  attributable 
in  an  indefinite  degree  to  the  work  of  past  thought  (using  'thought' 
in  its  broadest  sense).  There  is,  then,  on  the  pragmatist's  own 
showing,  no  chasm  between  a  perceptualized  and  a  conceptualized 
experience.  And  if  the  difference  between  them  is  only  one  of 
degree,  why  should  he  so  urgently  maintain  that  the  criteria  of 
truth  and  falsity  are  utterly  inapplicable  to  sense-experience? 
Surely  the  reality  of  sense-experience  must  be  correlative  with 
its  truth.  To  affirm  reality  of  it  at  large  has  no  significance. 
Everything  is  real  in  some  sense.  It  is  relevant  to  predicate 
reality  of  any  thing,  or  even  quality,  in  sense-experience,  only  if 
we  mean  that  it  is  really  the  sort  of  thing,  or  the  specific  quality, 
we  have  perceived  it  as;  and  the  perceiving  or  taking  it  as  of 
any  sort  or  species  is  always  a  true  or  false  way  of  taking  it. 

^Op.  cU.,  p.  350. 


234  DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 

We  suspect  that  pure  experience,  like  a  good  many  other 
philosophical  'realities,'  is  an  arbitrary  construct,  devised  to  stop 
up  the  loop-holes  of  a  theory.     It  is  everything  and  nothing  at 
once;  and  as  it  cannot  be  brought  into  evidence  who  shall  say  its 
author  nay?     It  is  as  like  observed  sensations  as  you  please; 
and  why  not,  since  they  contain  the  largest  proportion  of  it? 
And  it  is  as  unlike  them  as  you  please;  and  why  not,  since, 
after  all,  they  are  merely  conceptualized  products?     It  is  "not 
yet  any  definite  what^  perhaps  because  to  be  definite  is  to  be 
brought  under  a  concept ;  but  it  is  "ready  to  be  all  sorts  of  whats,'' 
for  if  reality  were  not  what  would  be?     It  is  "full  both  of  oneness 
and  manyness,"  to  the  eternal  confusion  of  all  rationalistic  dia- 
lectic; but  the  "respects"  in  which  it  is  one  and  many  "don't 
appear."     It  is  "changing  throughout,"  so  that  change  is  as 
little  mysterious  as  the  one  and  the  many;  but  it  changes  "so 
confusedly  that  its  phases  interpenetrate  and  no  points,  either 
of  distinction  or  of  identity,  can  be  caught."^   This  is  all  very  con- 
venient,  but  hardly  convincing.   Mr.  James  does  not  like  historical 
parallels;  but  we  cannot  help  thinking  of  the  much  abused  sub- 
stance of  Spinoza,  which  while  being  one  and  indivisible  contains 
an  endless  multiplicity,  and  while  incapable  of  change  or  of  the 
emotional  perception  of  change,  loves  itself  with  an  infinite  intel- 
lectual  love. 
^op.  cit.,  p.  348. 


APPENDIX  II 

THE   PRACTICAL   CHARACTER   OF   REALITY^ 

Recent  discussions  of  the  practical  character  of  reality  seem 
very  significant  when  one  considers  their  bearing  on  the  relation 
between  what  are  probably  the  two  most  distinctive  doctrines 
of  pragmatism.  The  first  of  these  doctrines  may  be  called  in- 
strumentalism ;  the  second  is  immediatism.  By  instrumentalism 
is  meant  that  element  of  pragmatism  which  has  grown  out  of  the 
application  of  the  evolutionary  method  to  logical  problems.  The 
evolutionary  method  in  general  prescribes  that,  in  order  to  under- 
stand the  existing  nature  of  anything,  we  inquire  into  its  origin 
and  development,  and  that  this  development  be  in  every  case 
explained  as  an  adjustment  to  the  specific  conditions  under  which 
it  has  taken  place.  When  this  method  is  applied  to  logic,  it 
means,  in  the  first  place,  that  thought  itself  has  arisen  as  a  mode 
of  organic  adjustment  to  environment,  and  that  its  whole  de- 
velopment has  been,  and  is,  determined  with  reference  to  this 
function.  In  the  second  place,  and  more  particularly,  instru- 
mentalism means  that  all  distinctions  and  terms  of  thought,  that 
is  to  say,  all  meanings,  are  relative  to  the  specific  conditions  which 
have  called  them  forth  and  to  the  functions  which  they  perform. 
This  carries  with  it  a  denial  of  absolutism  in  all  its  historic  forms, 
from  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  the  absolute  good  to  the  neo-Hege- 
lian  conception  of  reality  as  completely  organized  experience. 

It  is  from  the  standpoint  of  instrumentalism  that  the  pragma- 
tist  has  so  effectively  sought  to  discredit  the  venerable  disciplines 
of  ontology  and  epistemology,  whose  aim  is  the  investigation  of 
reality  as  such  or  knowing  as  such.  As  profitably,  argues  the 
pragmatist,  might  we  discuss  with  the  pre-Kantian  rationalist 
the  nature  of  man  as  such,  without  reference  to  his  biological 
relations  to  lower  species  and  the  conditions  of  his  development 

^Reprinted  from  the  Philosophical  Review,  Vol.  XVIII,  No.  4.  July,  1909. 

235 


236 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


from  them.     In  place  of  epistemology,  that  outworn  relic  of 
rationalism,  he  would  substitute  a  genetic  investigation  of  the 
relation  of  thinking  to  other  modes  of  experiencing,  together 
with  an  inquiry  into  the  specific  conditions  under  which  the 
various  thought-processes  arise  and  subside.     The  absolutist's 
condemnation  of  such  procedure  as  'merely  psychological'  he 
would  stigmatize  as  parallel  to  the  vitalist's  contempt  for  the 
chemical  investigation  of  organic  processes  as  'merely  mechan- 
ical.'    The  claim,  that  psychological  investigation  is  essentially 
and  ultimately  incapable  of  throwing  light  on  the  nature  of  mean- 
ing, is,  he  would  urge,  as  unfounded  as  the  claim  that  vital  reac- 
tions are  in  essence  not  amenable  to  chemical  analysis. 

A  very  similar  conclusion  regarding  the  investigation  of  the 
nature  of  reality  we  might  suppose  to  be  the  natural  expression 
of  the  instrumentalist  attitude  toward  ontology.     We  might  sup- 
pose, for  example,  the  pragmatist  pointing  out  the  dualism  in 
which  absolutistic  philosophy  has  generally  issued,  as  a  result  of 
the  attempt  to  define  reality  in  existential  (as  distinct  from  func- 
tional) terms.     Such  a  dualism,  he  might  say,  is  practically  in- 
evitable; for  the  characterization  of  one  form,  or  even  aspect,  of 
being  as  real  thereby  implies  the  unreality  of  other  forms  or 
aspects,  and  makes  inexplicable  the  relation  between  the  two 
divisions.     The  dualism  may,  perhaps,  be  avoided,  but  only  by 
the  expedient  of  maintaining  that  all  being  is  real,  in  which  case 
the  term  'real'  loses  all  significance.     From  the  instrumentalist 
standpoint,  the  inquiry.  What  is  reality?  appears  as  futile  as  did 
the  question,  What  is  the  cause  of  the.  world?  to  Kant.     And  we 
may  imagine  the  pragmatist  to  urge  of  reality,  even  as  Kant  did 
of  causality,  that  it  is  a  conception  applicable  to  the  particular 
objects  of  experience  in  relation  to  each  other,  but  utterly  barren 
if  applied  to  existence  as  a  whole.     But  the  advocate  of  instru- 
mentalism  would  go  farther  than  Kant.     Something  like  this, 
perhaps,  is  the  argument  we  may  conceive  him  to  advance.     If 
one  asks  the  cause  of  a  given  event,  a  complete  answer  would 
include  the  description  of  the  whole. preceding  state  of  the  uni- 


/ 


THE    PRACTICAL   CHARACTER   OF   REALITY 


237 


verse.     On  the  other  hand,  the  attempt  to  give  a  perfectly  accu- 
rate account  of  the  event  itself  would  equally  involve  a  description 
of  the  contemporaneous  state  of  the  universe.     Completeness  of 
statement  in  either  case  means  the  entire  loss  of  all  significance. 
No  event  is  left  and  no  cause  can  be  adduced.     How  much, 
then,  of  the  preceding  state  of  the  universe  is  to  be  regarded  as 
the  sufficient  cause  of  any  event?    What  degree  of  completeness 
does  'truth'  demand?     The  only  answer  is:  So  much  as  is  rele- 
vant to  the  purposes  of  the  particular  inquiry  in  hand.     In  fine, 
what  may  be  regarded  as  a  true  account  of  the  event,  and  what 
as  an  adequate  description  of  its  cause,  is  relative  to  the  purposes 
of  the  investigation, — it  is  a  'practical'  matter.     The  case  is 
similar  in  regard  to  reality.     What  any  object  or  event  really  is, 
always  depends  on  the  context  and  occasion  in  connection  with 
which  the  object  or  event  is  considered.     Taken  'at  large,' — to 
use  Professor  Dewey's  phrase, — the  inquiry  is  futile  because 
indeterminate.     The  'real,'  again,  is  always  such  by  distinction 
from  the  'unreal,'  or  the  'apparent,'  or  even  the  'ideal.'    The 
ground  for  the  distinction  is  always  specific,  and  is  to  be  found 
in  the  particular  circumstances  and  exigencies  which  have  given 
rise  to  it.     The  only  general  theory  of  reality  (as  of  causality) 
must  be  functional ;  that  is,  it  must  be  an  account  of  the  general 
service  which  the  distinction  'real-unreal'  performs  in  our  actual 
processes  of  thought.     Such,  in  brief,  is  the  position  which  we 
might  suppose  the  pragmatist  to  take,  and  something  of  this  sort 
we  might  suppose  him  to  mean  when  he  speaks  of  the  'practical 
character  of  reality.' 

Let  us  now  turn  to  what  has  been  mentioned  as  the  second 
distinctive  doctrine  of  pragmatism,  namely,  immediatism.  In 
the  following  discussion  I  shall,  for  purposes  of  brevity,  confine 
myself  to  a  consideration  of  immediatism  as  it  appears  in  Pro- 
fessor Dewey's  writings.  Tn  this  matter  he  seems  to  be  in  sub- 
stantial agreement  with  other  leading  exponents  of  pragmatism, 
notably  Professor  James^;  and  if  the  thesis  which  is  here  to  be 

^We  have  pointed  out  in  the  preceding  Appendix  that  this  is  not  strictly  true. 


\i 


238  DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 

advanced  is  valid  with  reference  to  Professor  Dewey's  position, 
it  will,  I  think,  hold  respecting  that  of  Professor  James. 

The  doctrine  of  immediatism  is  the  pragmatist's  substitute  for 
ontology.     It  is  briefly  expressed  in  the  formula,  that  reality  is, 
or  things  really  are,  what  they  are  experienced  as.    The  formula 
owes  its  point  to  the  distinction  between  things  as  known  and 
things  as  otherwise  experienced.    The  fallacy  of  older  theories 
is  supposed  to  lie  precisely  in  the  assumption,  that  the  object  of 
knowledge  alone  is  real;  or,  otherwise  put,  that  reality  sustains 
but  a  single  sort  of  relation  to  us,  namely,  that  of  object  to  be 
known.    Such   an   assumption,   however,   fails  signally  to  do 
justice  either  to  the  nature  of  reality,  or  to  our  -^^^-^  ^o^^- 
For  reality  is  practical;  and,  besides  being  object  of  knowledge. 
it  is  that  with  which  we  hold  commerce,-economic,  ethical, 
esthetic,  and  the  like.     Hence  it  is  whatever,  and  all,  it  is  ex- 
perienced to  be.    More  specifically,  the  real  is  what  it  is  ^rnme. 
7Zy  experienced  as,  not  alone  what  it  is  found  to  be  for  a  later 
reflection     Thus,  in  the  illustration  used  by  Professor  Dewey, 
the  noise  heard  in  the  night  is  really  fearsome,  even  though  in- 
vestigation  shows  it  to  be  only  the  harmless  flapping  of  a  shade 
in  the  wind.    This  is  not  meant  to  imply  that  the  object  of  the 
subsequent  knowledge-experience  is  unreal  (because  known  as 
harmless),  but  merely  that  the  object  known  has  no  exclusive 
dt  e  tH  dity.    The  knowledge-experience,  albeit  the  issue  of  a 
prlss  of   mediation,  is,  as  experience,  itself  immediate,  and 
hlnce  as  real,  if  no  more  real,  than  any  other  kind  of  experience. 
Reality  then,  is  identifiable  with  experience  in  its  immediate  as- 
pect    To  th^  objection  that  the  real  object  thus  becomes  the 
subject  of  contradictory  predicates,  the  reply  of  the  pragmat.t 
is  tiat  the  ascription  of  contradictory  predicates  becomes  a  dif. 
ficulty  only  when  the  real  object  is  conceived  as  a  static  entity. 
The  solution  lies  in  conceiving  the  real  itself  to  chan..  J^e 
noise  of  the  illustration  is  really  fearsome  and  Really  harmle^. 
•ust  because  the  reality  experienced  has  changed   and  changed 
^deed.  by  virtue  of  the  knowing  itself.     It  is  a  false  account  of 


THE  PRACTICAL   CHARACTER   OF   REALITY 


239 


the  occurrence  to  describe  the  change  as  being  merely  in  our 
attitude  and  thus  subjective.  The  real  thing,  that  is,  the  thing 
as  actually  experienced,  has  changed.  It  is  all  one,  indeed, 
whether  we  say  that  the  thing  experienced  has  changed,  or  that 
experience  has  changed .  Things  are  no  other  than  our  experience 
of  them;  and  experience  is  no  other  than  the  things  experienced. 

But  not  only  do  we  discover  the  real  nature  of  such  things  as 
particular  noises,  horses,  and  chairs,  by  asking  what  they  are  ex- 
perienced as;  but  we  must  apply  the  same  method  in  our  inquiry 
into  the  nature  of  all  manner  of  metaphysical  quiddities.  As 
Professor  Dewey  says:  "If  you  wish  to  find  out  what  subjec- 
tive, objective,  physical,  mental,  cosmic,  psychic,  cause,  sub- 
stance, purpose,  activity,  evil,  quantity, — any  philosophic  term, 
in  short, — means,  go  to  experience  and  see  what  it  is  experi- 
enced as." 

Suppose,  now,  we  attempt  to  apply  this  method  to  the  very 
subject  under  discussion,  the  nature  of  reality  itself.  Has  Pro- 
fessor Dewey,  we  may  well  ask,  followed  the  method  of  imme- 
diate empiricism  in  his  account  of  reality?  Has  he  asked  what 
reality  itself  is  experienced  as?  Or  has  he,  since  reality  is  only 
another  name  for  the  different  reals  of  experience,  asked  what  a 
real  thing  is  experienced  as?  For  surely,  although  'real  thing* 
may  perhaps  be  conceived  as  identical  with  'thing  experienced,' 
it  is  not  immediately  experienced  as  such.  If  a  'really  fearsome 
noise'  is  not  experienced  as  something  over  and  above  a  'fear- 
some noise,'  the  'real'  is  not  experienced  at  all.  As  well  might 
the  fearsome  noise  be  described  as  harmless,  since  investigation 
shows  it  to  be  such.  For  is  it  not  perfectly  manifest,  that  it  is 
only  for  subsequent  reflection  that  the  'fearsome  noise'  can  be- 
come a  'really  fearsome  noise,'  just  as  it  is  only  for  subsequent 
reflection  that  it  could  have  become  a  'not  really  fearsome'  but 
'really  harmless  noise'?  The  experience  'A — B'  is  surely  not 
identical  with  the  experience  'really  A — B';  and  it  would  seem 
that  the  inquiry  to  which  the  immediatist  is  committed  is :  What 
is  the  nature  of  this  experienced  difference? 


'     'l^ 


240 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


THE    PRACTICAL   CHARACTER   OF   REALITY 


241 


But  what  now  shall  we  say  of  the  doctrine,  that  reality  is  to 
be  identified  with  the  immediate?  Surely  if  immediatism  means 
that  all  things  are  what  they  are  experienced  as,  then  it  is  not 
true  to  say  that  all  things  as  they  are  experienced  are  real ;  for 
they  are  not  experienced  as  real.  The  doctrine  of  immediatism 
can  no  more  legitimately  supply  a  definition  of  reality  than  it  can,  j 
for  example,  of  causality.  All  it  can  with  any  semblance  of 
consistency  claim  to  offer  is  a  method  for  discovering  either.  If 
as  immediatists  we  would  discover  the  nature  of  reality,  we  must, 
in  Professor  Dewey's  words,  go  to  experience  and  see  what  it  is 
experienced  as;  and,  still  imitating  his  language,  one  may  say 
that  this  would  be  found  no  short  and  easy  method. 

It  is  not  my  purpose,  however,  simply  to  convict  immediatism 
of  self-contradiction.     Let  it  be  admitted  for  argument's  sake 
that  the  self-contradiction  just  pointed  out  is  merely  verbal,  and 
that,  in  Professor  Dewey's  thought,  the  term  'reality'  is  used 
as  synonymous  with  'things  as  immediately  experienced';  and 
let  us  consider  on  its  own  merits  the  doctrine  that  things  are 
what  they  are  experienced  as.     No  difficulty  may,  at  first  sight, 
seem  to  arise,  so  long  as  we  consider  experiences  of  particular 
things.     The  noise  which  alarms  us  in  the  night  is  a  fearsome 
thing;  and,  when  later  we  find  it\o  be  caused  by  the  wind,  it  is, 
again,'  a  harmless  thing.     So  the  horse  we  use  for  our  afternoon 
drive  is  the  means  of  relief  from  the  pressure  of  the  day's  cares; 
although  later,  when  we  learn  that  it  grows  frantic  with  fear 
when  it  meets  a  motor-car,  it  becomes  no  longer  a  means  of 
recreation  but  an  unwelcome  responsibility.     So  far  we  may  per- 
haps follow  the  immediatist  dictum,  that  things  are  what  they 
are  experienced  as.     But  suppose  the  case  in  point  be  the  nature 
of  some  universal ;  say,  for  instance,  the  universal  'horse.'     What 
is  'horse'  experienced  as?     How,  in  general  terms,  can  the  im- 
mediatist describe  the  difference  between  the  experience  of  a 
universal  and  that  of  a  particular?    The  discussions  of  imme- 
diatism by  Professor  Dewey  have  given  me  no  material  help 
toward  an  answer  to  this  question.     In  regard  to  one  universal, 


I 


'reality',  the  assumption,  indeed,  seems  to  be  that  the  experience 
of  the  different  particular  real  things  is  no  other  than  the  expe- 
rience of  reality  itself.  But  it  is  scarcely  conceivable  that  in 
reply  to  the  question,  "What  is  the  nature  of  the  universal 
'horse'?"  the  pragmatist  would  point  to  the  various  experiences 
of  particular  horses  and  say:  "That  is  what  'horse'  is  expe- 
rienced as."  To  such  a  reply  the  retort  is  obvious, — "How  is 
the  experience  of  these  numerous  and  varying  objects  as  'horses* 
to  be  described?"  No,  the  only  seemingly  possible  position  for 
the  pragmatist  to  take  is  the  one  which  we  find  him  actually 
taking;  namely,  that  the  universal  is  experienced  as  a  tool  in 
the  processes  of  reflective  thought,  and  that,  although  these  are 
processes  of  meditation,  yet  as  modes  of  experiencing  they  are 
themselves  immediate.  Thus  we  find  Professor  Dewey  saying: 
"Lest  I  be  charged  with  intimating  that  concepts  are  unreal  and 
unempirical,  I  say  forthwith  that  I  believe  meanings  may  be  and 
are  immediately  experienced  as  conceptual."^  Suppose  we  ask, 
however,  just  what  in  such  a  process  of  mediation  is  immediately 
experienced.  Here  it  is  important  to  recall  that  the  thing  ex- 
perienced and  the  experience  are  the  same.  The  thing  imme- 
diately experienced  in  the  process  of  mediation,  accordingly,  is 
the  process  of  mediation  itself.  The  terms  in  which  the  process 
is  carried  on,  the  tools  by  which  the  reconstitution  is  effected, 
are  not  themselves  immediately  experienced.  In  pragmatist 
references  to  universals  they  usually  are  described  as  Denkmittely 
instruments  of  analysis,  means  by  which  we  are  enabled  to  deal 
successfully  with  facts  and  lead  our  thinking  to  successful  issue. 
They  are,  in  short,  described  in  functional  terms.  Yet  one 
could  scarcely  state  the  essence  of  the  immediatist  theory  of 
reality  better  than  to  characterize  it  as  the  belief  that  the  real 
nature  of  things  is  to  be  found  in  structure  and  not  in  function. 
Perhaps  the  difficulty  may  be  better  presented  in  this  way.  The 
first  principle  of  immediatism  is  that  things  are  what  they  are 
experienced  as.     But  universals  are  not  described  by  the  prag- 

^ Journal  of  Philos  ,  p.  599,  note. 
17 


I 


242 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


matist  in  terms  of  what  they  are  experienced  as,  but  in  terms  of 
the  functions  they  perform.  Universals  are,  it  is  said,  tools  of 
the  process  of  reflection;  but  surely  it  cannot  be  said  that  they 
are  immediately  experienced  as  such.  Indeed,  it  is  only  for  the 
speculation  of  the  pragmatist  that  the  universal  becomes  inter- 
preted as  a  tool,  that  is  to  say,  as  a  mediator.  Even  so,  the 
noise  heard  in  the  night  may  be  described  as  a  stimulus  to  the 
specific  organic  reaction  which  follows;  but  it  is  not  as  such  a 
stimulus  that  it  is  experienced.  Doubtless,  universals  must,  as 
Professor  Dewey  says,  "somehow  enter  into  experience";  and, 
doubtless,  "all  experience  is  as  existence  immediate";  but,  if  this 
last  remark  is  to  have  any  force,  it  obviously  implies  that  ex- 
perience as  meaning  is  not  immediate. 

It  seems  impossible,  then,  that  universals  should  be  immedi- 
ately experienced .     Laying  aside  the  problem  which  now  emerges 
regarding  the  status  of  universals  thus  banished  from  the  realm 
of  reality,  let  us  turn  to  the  no  less  urgent  problem  of  the  rela- 
tion of  universal  to  particular.     For  immediatism,  it  is  evident,  is 
brought  face  to  face  with  a  dualism  of  particular  and  universal 
as  radical  as  that  faced  by  the  older  empiricism.     One  finds,  in- 
deed, in  the  writings  of  pragmatists  suggestions  as  to  how  this 
difficulty  may  be  met.     Knowing,  it  is  urged,  as  compared  with 
other  modes  of  experiencing,  is  not  absolutely  sui  generis.     It 
is,  indeed,  nothing  other  than  the  mode  in  which  the  conflicting 
values  and  meanings  of  immediate  experiences  become  trans- 
formed and  adjusted.     It  is  false  to  assert  that  any  irreconcilable 
dualism  exists  between  the  tools  of  the  knowing-experience  and 
the  things  which  they  serve  to  readjust.     For,  on  the  one  hand, 
the  very  nature  of  these  tools  is  determined  by  the  specific  mal- 
adjustments and  tensions  of  the  immediate  experience  which  call 
for  the  reconstitution ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  nature  of 
these  tools  by  which  the  reconstitution  is  effected  determines  the 
nature  of  the  immediate  experience  in  which  the  process  issues. 
In  other  words,  the  relation  of  universals,  which  are  always  me- 
diate terms  of  thought,  to  the  particular  things  of  immediate  ex- 


1 

' 


THE   PRACTICAL   CHARACTER   OF    REALITY  243 

perience  lies  in  the  uncertainty  and  doubtfulness  existing  within 
the  immediate  experience  itself. 

In  reply  to  this  argument,  I  would  submit,  in  the  first  place, 
that  immediate  experience  can  contain  no  uncertainty  and  doubt- 
fulness such  as  to  demand  mediation;  but  that  as  immediate  it  is 
utterly  incapable  of  giving  rise  to  any  inquiry  whatsoever.     Let 
the  point  be  perfectly  clear.     An  immediate  experience  may,  in- 
deed, be  one  of  vagueness,  doubt,  uncertainty;  but  this  very  un- 
certainty becomes  then  the  thing  experienced,  and  is  not  itself 
uncertain.     There  can  be  no  possible  doubt  as  to  what  is  experi- 
enced, since  any  doubtfulness  felt  is  itself  precisely  what  is  ex- 
perienced.    It  is  only  an  experience  which  contains  a  doubt  as 
to  the  nature  of  the  thing  experienced,  that  stands  in  need  of,  or 
can  possibly  evoke,  reconstitution.     As  Professor  Dewey  himself 
says  in  the  Studies:  "It  is  the  uncertainty  as  to  the  what  of 
the  experience,  together  with  the  certainty  that  there  is  such 
an  experience,  that  evokes  the  thought-function"  (p.  40).     But, 
if  the  thing  experienced  is  just  the  experience  itself,  there  is  no 
possible  distinction  between  the  what  and  the  that.     The  what  is 
the  that.     It  is  this  very  confusion  of  the  that  and  the  what  which 
is,  I  believe,  the  source  of  the  dogma  of  the  certainty  of  immedi- 
ate experience.     "If  any  experience,"  Professor  Dewey  writes, 
"then  a  determinate  experience."^     So  also  might  it  be  said: 
"If  any  existence,  then  a  determinate  existence."     We  see  a  tree 
in  the  yard,  and  we  assume  (as  indeed  we  must,  if  only  as  a 
working  hypothesis)  that  as  an  objective  thing  the  tree  is  per- 
fectly determinate  in  every  particular.     But  this  is  not  to  assert 
that  any  possible  description  of  the  tree  can  adequately  express 
its  determinations.     On  the  contrary,  we  would  say  that  every 
possible  statement  about  the  tree  is  fundamentally  hypothetical, 
and  subject  to  correction.     Just  so,  we  must  say  that  any  given 
experience,  is  as  an  objective  thing,  perfectly  determinate;  but 
our  statements  about  the  nature  of  this  experience  are  just  as 
truly  hypothetical  as  are  our  statements  about  the  nature  of  the 

Journal  of  Philos.,  Vol.  II,  p.  398- 


V 


244 


DOGMATISM    AND    EVOLUTION 


tree, — else  why  the  need  of  trained  introspection?  Again,  Pro- 
fessor Dewey  writes:  "It  is  a  situation  which  is  organized  or 
constituted  as  a  whole,  and  which  yet  is  falling  to  pieces  in  its 
parts,— a  situation  which  is  in  conflict  with  itself,— that  arouses 
the  search  to  find  what  really  goes  together  and  a  correspondent 
effort  to  shut  out  what  only  seemingly  belongs  together"  (p.  37). 
But  within  the  immediate  experience  there  can  be  no  question  as 
to  what  really,  and  what  only  seemingly,  goes  together.  Either 
things  go  together  or  they  do  not;  and  in  either  case  it  is  really, 

and  not  seemingly. 

Now  it  is  just  this  failure  of  immediatism  to  distinguish  the 
what  from  the  that,  this  attempted  reduction  of  meaning  to  exist- 
ence, which  marks  the  fatal  separation  of  universal  and  particular. 
This  will  perhaps  be  evident  if  we  again  consider  one  of  Professor 
Dewey's  illustrations,   that  of  the  Zollner  lines.^     One  would 
naturally  say  of  these  lines  that  they  are  seen  as  convergent,  but 
are  really  not  convergent  but  parallel.     To  such  a  statement  of 
the  case,  however,  Professor  Dewey  takes  exception.     The  lines 
of  the  experience  in  which  the  illusion  occurs,  he  maintains,  are 
really  convergent,  not  merely  seen  as  such.     But  how,  we  must 
ask,  are  lines  experienced  as  convergent?    What  do  we  mean 
by  describing  lines  as  convergent?     Convergent  lines  are  com- 
monly defined  as  those  which,  when  extended,  meet  in  a  point. 
But  the  lines-of-that-experience  cannot  possibly  be  conceived  to 
be  extended,  without  thereby  becoming  the  lines  of  some  other 
experience.     Evidently,  then,  the  lines  which  are  seen  to  be  con- 
vergent are  not  the  lines-of-that-experience,  in  the  immediate 
particularity  of  the  experience;  they  are  not  the  lines  of  any 
particular  experience  at  all ;  they  are  the  real  lines.     That  is  to 
say,  if  the  paradox  be  allowed,  the  lines-of-that-experience  are 
not  real  lines  at  all.     For  what  is  a  real  line?    Surely  something 
that  can  be  extended  and  measured  and  divided;  something 
which  (to  adapt  a  phrase  of  Professor  Dewey's)  is  good  for 
something  else  in  the  way  of  experience.    And  this,  I  venture 

^Journal  of  Philos..  Vol.  II,  p.  397- 


THE   PRACTICAL    CHARACTER   OF   REALITY 


245 


to  assert,  is  just  what  a  'real  thing'  means  (at  least,  this  is  one 
of  the  meanings  of  'real'),— a  thing  good  for  something  else  in 
the  way  of  experience.  To  experience  a  thing  as  real  is  to 
experience  it  as  having  reference  to  that  which  is  not  contained 
in  the  experience  itself.  And  here  we  come  into  open  contra- 
diction with  immediatism.  For  this  is  precisely  what  the  things 
of  immediate  experience  are  not, — good  for  anything  else  in  the 
way  of  experience, — provided  that  things  experienced  are,  indeed, 
the  experiences  themselves. 

To  put  the  matter  otherwise,  the  'real,'  I  should  say,  is  never 
immediately  experienced  at  all;  it  is  always  ideal.  This  being 
so,  it  turns  out  that  all  experiences  are  not  equally  good  at  tell- 
ing what  the  nature  of  a  thing  really  is.  If  they  were,  there 
would  be  no  such  thing  as  illusions  at  all.  In  the  case  of  the 
Zollner  lines,  the  visual  experience  is  not  as  good  as  an  experi- 
ence of  measuring  for  telling  whether  the  lines  really  are  con- 
vergent or  not.  Perhaps  the  question  may  arise:  If  'con- 
vergent' means  'meeting  in  a  point  when  produced,'  what  is 
meant  by  seeing  Jines  'as  convergent'  when  they  do  not  actually 
meet?  Simply  that  a  certain  visual  appearance,  now  recognized, 
has  come  to  be  a  sign  or  symbol  of  other  experiences.  Indeed, 
the  association  of  these  experiences  with  this  visual  appearance 
is  so  close,  that  'convergent'  is  often  used  to  denote  the  visual 
appearance  without  explicit  reference  to  the  possible  extension 
of  the  convergent  lines  to  a  meeting-point.  Thus  in  the  illusion 
we  do,  as  Professor  Dewey  says,  see  real  convergence,  in  the 
sense  that  we  do  actually  experience  this  visual  appearance.  But 
let  the  question  arise,  whether  the  lines  are  really  convergent  or 
not;  and  the  reference  is  no  longer  to  the  visual  appearance 
alone,  but  to  the  possibility  of  actually  extending  the  lines  until 
they  meet,  or  of  applying  some  other  recognized  test  of  con- 
vergence. It  is  this  ambiguity  in  the  meaning  of  'convergent' 
which,  it  seems  to  me,  makes  plausible  the  contention  of  Pro- 
fessor Dewey,  that  the  lines  of  the  Zollner  illusion  are  really 
convergent.     And  there  is,  I  believe,  a  similar  ambiguity  in  the 


I 


.  I 


246 


DOGMATISM   AND    EVOLUTION 


meaning  of  'fearsome'  as  used  in  the  previous  illustration.     The 
noise,  was,  indeed   'really  fearsome,'  in  the  sense  of  actually 
giving  rise  to  the  emotion  of  fear.     But  'fearsome'  also  means 
simply  dangerous:  and  it  is  this  meaning  of  the  term  which  we 
have  in  mind,  when  after  investigation  we  say  that  the  noise  is 
not  really  fearsome  but  harmless.     For  there  certainly  could 
never  arise  any  question  as  to  whether  the  noise  was  really  fear- 
some  or  really  harmless,   unless  fearsome   meant   more   than 
actually  exciting  fear.     So  the  question,  what  things  really  are, 
has  meaning  only  because  it  refers  beyond  the  particular  imme- 
diate experience  of  the  things,— not,  to  be  sure,  to  any  reality 
lying  beyond  experience,  but  to  other  possible  experiences  of  the 
things.     This  is  true,  even  if  the  question  be,   for  example, 
whether  a  certain  book  is  really  gray.     Does  the  gray  I  now  see 
belong  to  the  object,  or  is  it  merely  subjective?     The  question 
is  not  as  to  the  reality  of  my  sensation  of  grayness,  but  whether 
the  gray  is  a  part  of  the  nature  of  the  book  or  not.     And  the 
answer  to  this  question  involves  reference  beyond  the  present 
experience.     For  it  may  be  that  the  apparent  grayness  is  the  re- 
sult of  peculiar  conditions  of  the  lighting,  and  that  in  a  better 
light  the  book  is  blue.     The  experience  of  a  thing  as  anything 
is  always  an  interpretation,  an  assumption  on  which  we  act  in 
our  dealings  with  it;  and  the  question  as  to  the  real  nature  of 
the  thing  refers  to  the  verification  of  the  assumption. 

What  now  is  to  be  said  of  the  practical  character  of  reality 
and  of  the  claim  that  knowing  changes  reality?  Is  it  truism, 
paradox,  or  significant  truth?  For  evidently  the  answer  given 
to  this  question  will  vary  with  the  interpretation  of  the  term 
'reality.'  Let  us  first  consider  the  matter  from  the  standpoint 
of  a  consistent  immediatism.  If  real  things  are  things  as  ex- 
perienced, and  if  things  as  experienced  are  no  other  than  the 
experiences  themselves,  then  it  would  seem  the  doctrine  that 
knowing  changes  reality  becomes  a  mere  truism,  which  is  better 
expressed  by  saying  that  knowing  is  a  change  in  reality,  or  that 
the  process  of  learning  is  a  real  change. 


THE    PRACTICAL   CHARACTER   OF   REALITY 


247 


I 


L 


J 


Secondly,  from  another  point  of  view,  the  doctrine  may,  I 
think,  be  shown  to  be  not  a  truism  but  a  paradox.     As  was 
pointed  out  earlier  in  this  article,  one  would  suppose  the  ques- 
tion of  primary  importance  to  the  immediatist  in  his  investigation 
of  the  nature  of  reality  to  be:  What  is  the  difference  between 
the  experience  'A — B'  and  the  experience  'really  A — B'?     In 
other  words,  one  would  expect  him  to  seek  to  determine  empiric- 
ally when  and  how  a  thing  is  experienced  as  real.     Let  us,  then, 
taking  the  part  of  immediatists,  raise  this  question.     In  the  first 
place,  it  would  seem  that  a  thing  is  experienced  as  real,  only 
when  there  has  been  some  question  regarding  its  nature.     That 
is  to  say,  we  are  led  to  characterize  it  as  really  this  kind  of  a 
thing,  only  when  its  nature  has  been  subject  to  doubt  and  inquiry. 
Now  to  characterize  a  thing  as  this  or  that  means  to  regard  it 
as  promising  a  specific  sort  of  future  experience.     The  charac- 
terization of  the  thing  as  really  this  or  that  means  that  after  in- 
vestigation we  regard  this  promise  as  confirmed ;  not  necessarily 
because  we  have  experienced  the  actual  fulfillment  of  the  promise, 
but  because  satisfactory  evidence  has  been  adduced  that  the 
promise  would  be  fulfilled  under  certain  specified  conditions. 

(The  question  may  perhaps  be  raised,  whether  a  runaway 
horse  is  not  experienced  as  'really'  dangerous,  when  we  get  out 
of  its  way.  We  are  surely  acting  as  if  it  were  good  for  dan- 
gerous consequences,  even  if  we  do  not  explicitly  frame  the 
judgment,  'That  horse  is  dangerous,'  before  taking  to  our  heels. 
True;  but  my  point  is  that  for  a  consistent  immediatism  in  such 
an  experience  'reality,'  or  the  'real,'  is  not  experienced  at  all. 
A  really  dangerous  horse  is  a  horse  experienced  as  'really  danger- 
ous.' The  horse  may  for  a  subsequent  experience  be  'really 
dangerous,'  but  only  in  so  far  as  my  action  in  getting  out  of  his 
way  has  been  made  the  subject  of  inquiry  and  judged  right.) 

If  this  analysis  be  correct,  and  it  is  only  the  thing  subjected  to 
inquiry  that  is  immediately  experienced  as  real,  we  have  reached 
a  conclusion  of  great  significance  for  immediatism.  For  the 
thing  that  has  undergone  the  process  of  inquiry  is  precisely  the 


248 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


thing  known.  Thus  it  is  only  the  object  known  that  is  experienced 
as  real.  The  paradoxical  character  of  the  doctrine  that  know- 
ing changes  reaUty  is  now  apparent.  For  if  we  experience  the 
real  only  as  the  outcome  of  the  knowing  experience,  it  surely 
cannot  be  the  real  that  is  changed  by  the  process  of  knowing. 

But  there  is  another  sense  in  which  the  immediatist  doctrine 
shows  itself  to  be  paradoxical.     As  conceived  by  the  immediatist, 
the  object  known,  the  outcome  of  the  knowing-experience,  is  the 
earlier  experienced  reality  transformed  in  a  certain  specific  way. 
It  is  emphatically  not  a  different  reality.     The  object  known  is 
essentially  the  same  thing  that  was  experienced  in  the  initial 
stage  of  the  process.     The  whole  purpose  of  the  knowing  is  just 
to  effect  a  specific  change  in  the  thing  experienced.     It  may,  in 
fact,  be  described  as  a  specific  sort  of  transformation  taking  place 
in  things.     The  significance  of  describing  reality  as  practical  lies 
in  the  refusal  to  regard  the  real  nature  of  things  as  something  to 
be  distinguished  from  our  personal  subjective  attitudes  toward 
them.     And  it  is  this  same  refusal  which  likewise  gives  point  to 
the  assertion,  that  things  are  what  they  are  experienced  as.     For 
they  are  experienced  as  standing  in  personal,  practical  relations 
to  us,— as  means,  ends,  obstacles,  dangers,  delights.     In  other 
words,  as  things  are  experienced  there  is  no  distinction  between 
the  merely  subjective  and  the  objective  itself,  between  our  per- 
sonal attitude  and  the  thing  experienced.     In  Professor  Dewey's 
words,  the  thing  experienced  is  just  the  experience  itself.     How, 
then,  it  seems  pertinent  to  ask,  does  this  distinction  of  sub- 
jective and  objective  arise?     Is  it  a  purposeless  device  of  sheer 
intellectualism?     Or,  on  the  contrary,  is  it  not  the  very  purpose 
of  the  knowing-experience  to  make  just  this  distinction?     Is  not 
knowing  evoked  for  the  sake  of  determining  what  in  the  initial 
experience  is  to  be  regarded  as  objective  and  what  as  merely 
personal  and  subjective?    And  does  not  the  outcome  of  the 
knowing-experience,  the  object  known,  include  and  preserve  just 
that  part  of  the  content  of  the  earlier  experience  which  has  been 
determined  as  objective?    And,  contrariwise,  is  not  that  part  of 


i 


i 


THE   PRACTICAL   CHARACTER   OF   REALITY  249 

the  earlier  experience  which  is  not  preserved  in  the  knowledge- 
experience  as  characteristic  of  the  object  known,  regarded  as 
unreal?  To  say,  then,  that  the  object  known  is  essentially  the 
same  thing  as  the  earlier  experience  becomes  unintelligible.  For 
the  earlier  experience  is  not  a  thing  in  the  same  sense  as  is  the  ob- 
ject known.  It  is  both  more  and  less  than  a  thing;  more,  by 
virtue  of  those  subjective  factors  the  discarding  of  which  is  neces- 
sary in  order  to  make  it  a  thing;  and  less,  because  it  lacks  that 
supplementation  from  related  experiences  through  which  the 
thing  acquires  external  and  internal  consistency.  The  paradox 
of  immediatism  thus  becomes  acute.  For  that  aspect  of  the 
earlier  experience  which  has  been  determined  as  real  is  just  that 
which  is  regarded  as  having  remained  unchanged  throughout  the 

process. 

There  is  one  sense,  however,  in  which,  as  it  appears  to  me, 
reality  may  well  be  characterized  as  practical ;  but  it  is  a  sense 
almost  directly  opposed  to  that  in  which  Professor  Dewey  has 
employed  the  phrase.  Whereas  reality  has  been  called  practical 
because  it  is  conceived  to  change  with  every  change  of  our  sub- 
jective attitude  toward  it,  may  not  its  practical  character  be  more 
truly  urged  on  the  ground  of  its  stability  throughout  the  changes 
of  our  attitudes?  Let  it  be  granted  that  things  have  been  dis- 
criminated and  are  defined  in  reference  to  the  practical  needs  of 
human  life.  Yet  it  is  equally  true,  that  if  a  thing  bore  but  a 
single  relation  to  our  needs,  it  could  never  be  discriminated 
as  a  'thing.'  It  is  just  because  a  thing  does  stand  in  such  a 
diversity  of  relations  to  us,  and  because  at  the  same  time  it  main- 
tains a  certain  experienced  identity  of  character  amidst  this  di- 
versity of  relationship,  that  it  becomes  a  'thing'  at  all.  Its 
recognition  as  a  thing  marks  the  distinguishing  of  this  continuity 
of  character  from  the  changes  of  relationship  it  undergoes.  Thus 
the  definition  of  the  real  nature  of  a  thing  as  what  it  is  apart  from 
our  practical  attitudes  toward  it,  is  not  a  piece  of  intellectualism; 
it  is  a  vital  necessity  for  conduct  as  well  as  thought. 


250 


DOGMATISM    AND  EVOLUTION 


But  in  order  to  appreciate  the  real  significance  of  the  imme- 
diatist  conception  of  reality  as  actual  experience,  we  must  recall 
to  mind  the  ontological  theory  in  opposition  to  which  it  has  been 
urged.     This  is,  of  course,  the  theory  of  reality  held  by  abso- 
lute idealism.     According  to  this  theory,  reality  is,  indeed,  object 
of  knowledge;  not,  however,  of  knowledge  as  cumbered  with  its 
contingent  imperfections,  but  of  knowledge  as  such, — that  is,  in 
so  far  as  it  is  knowledge,  or  conforms  to  the  eternal  ideal  of 
what  knowledge  should  and  must  be.     Or,  again,  it  is  the  object 
of  absolute  knowledge,  the  content  of  a  single  all-embracing  ex- 
perience in  which  every  element  is  what  it  is  by  reason  of  its 
relation  to  and  determination  by  every  other  element.     It  is  a 
perfect  system,  no  part  of  which  can  be  abstractly  considered 
without  falsification.     Moreover,  it  embraces  not  simply  relations 
between  contemporary  states  but  between  successive  events. 
The   processes  of   the  cosmos  constitute   one  evolution,   every 
stage  of  which  is  an  essential  aspect  of  the  system  of  reality. 
Just  as  the  human  organism  may  be  understood  to  embrace,  not 
simply  the  set  of  tissues  and  organs  belonging  to  a  man  at  one 
stage  of  his  development  but  the  whole  life-process  itself  from  the 
beginning  to  the  end  of  individual  existence;  so  reality  is  under- 
stood to  be  limited  to  no  single  cross-section  of  evolution, — it 
embraces  the  universe  throughout  all  its  transformations.     It  is 
in  this  sense  that  it  is  described  as  eternal.     Change,  indeed,  is 
real,  but  it  is  not  reality  which  changes;  for  reality  is  precisely 
that  which  includes  all  changes  within  itself.     Accordingly,  as 
applied  to  any  particular  thing  or  event,  reality  means  its  nature 
as  an  element  of  the  infinite  system,  and  as  determined  thus  by 
its  relation  to  all  other  things  or  events.     The  real  individual  is 
the  infinitely  determinate  individual,— determinate,  moreover, 
not  simply  for  the  thought  of  any  particular  inquiring  conscious- 
ness, but  for  the  absolute  thought  which  is  the  norm  to  which 
every  rational  inquiry  submits  itself  for  final  judgment. 

In  criticism  of  this  theory,  pragmatism  urges  that  such  a  con- 
ception of  reality  and  truth  must  remain  utterly  inoperative  as  a 


I 


THE   PRACTICAL   CHARACTER  OF   REALITY 


251 


criterion  for  evaluating  the  realities  and  truths  of  actual  experi- 
ence.    No  actual  judgment  as  to  the  real  nature  of  anything 
ever  was  or  will  be  found  true  or  false  by  comparison  with  the 
standard  of  an  absolutely  completed  knowledge.     For  the  pur- 
poses of  actual  thought,  the  real  nature  of  any  individual  never 
can  mean  what  it  is  as  determined  by  its  relations  to  all  other 
things  in  the  universe.     For  so  to  extend  the  meaning  of  'indi- 
vidual' is  to  deprive  it  of  all  significance;  just  as  the  similar  ex- 
tension of  the  idea  of  'cause'  deprives  it  of  significance.     And 
if  it  be  urged  by  the  absolute  idealist  that  the  realities  and  truths 
of  human  thought  must  by  the  philosopher  be  judged  neither 
real  nor  unreal,  true  nor  false,  but  as  representing  degrees  of  re- 
ality and  truth;  the  reply  is  that  the  absolute  mind  with  its  real- 
ity and  truth  is  separated  by  an  infinite  gap  from  human  thought, 
and  that  the  former  can  be  no  measure  of  degrees  in  the  latter, 
— just  as  an  infinite  straight  line  can  be  no  meaure  of  the  lengths 
of  finite  straight  lines. 

In  short,  from  the  standpoint  of  instrumentalism,  reality  and 
truth  as  defined  by  absolute  idealism  are  merely  limiting  con- 
ceptions; and,  like  the  limiting  conceptions  of  mathematics  and 
mechanics,  they  must  be  criticised  both  as  displaying  irreconcila- 
ble self-contradictions  and  as  failing  to  represent  the  concrete 
facts  of  actual  experience.     But  this  is  not  to  assert  that  when 
their  limitations  are  recognized  they  are  not  eff"ective  instruments 
of  analysis.     Take  the  case  of  the  pulley  for  example.     As  a 
pulley  is  defined  by  mechanics,  the  cord  must  be  perfectly  flexi- 
ble and  the  wheel  on  which  it  runs  perfectly  frictionless.     Only 
when  these  conditions  are  fulfilled  have  we,  from  the  standpoint 
of  pure  science,  a  real  pulley.     Suppose  a  pragmatist  mechanic 
to  reply:  "Not  so.     The  flexible  cords  and  frictionless  wheels 
of  pure  mechanics  are  sheer  abstractions.     If  you  would  under- 
stand what  a  puUy  really  is,  observe  the  ropes  and  wheels  that 
men  use  in  actual  life, — these  are  real  pulleys."     To  such  a 
criticism  of  the  definitions  of  pure  mechanics  the  reply  is  obvious; 
for  the  definitions  of  mechanics  do,  indeed,  represent  the  outcome 


) 


f 


252 


DOGMATISM   AND   EVOLUTION 


of  a  study  of  the  ropes  and  wheels  of  common  life;  and,  if  they 
are  abstractions,  it  is  because  such  abstractions  are  a  practical 
necessity  and  owe  their  justification  to  their  necessity.     More- 
over, it  is  only  by  regarding  the  actual  ropes  and  wheels  as  if 
they  were  perfectly  flexible  and  perfectly  frictionless,  that  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  pulley  can  be  applied  to  them.     It  is  true  that  such 
procedure  involves  error,  for  which  allowance  may  be  made. 
But  allowance  is  made  only  for  error  that  is  not  negligible;  and 
it  is  made,  too,  in  terms  that  are  as  ideal  and  schematic  as  the 
perfect  pulley  itself;  and  when  all  is  said  and  done  there  ever 
remains  uneliminated  error,  whose  correction  would  demand  an 
infinite  analysis.     What  the  instrumentalist  would  point  to  as  sig- 
nificant is  just  this  ever-present  factor  of  negligible  error.     Just 
what  degree  of  error  is  negligible  in  a  given  case  is  always  deter- 
mined by  the  purpose  for  which  the  calculation  is  made.   Whether 
the  actual  structure  of  ropes  and  wheels  and  weights  is  a  real 
pulley  or  not  depends  on  whether,  for  the  needs  of  the  existing 
occasion,  the  cords  and  wheels  may  be  regarded  as  if  perfectly 
flexible  and  perfectly  frictionless.     In  short,  the  dispute  as  to 
whether  the  pulley  of  abstract  mechanics  or  the  structure  of  ropes 
and  wheels  which  draws  the  bucket  of  water  from  the  well  is  the 
real  pulley,  is  after  all  a  verbal  difference.     The  one  is  real,  just 
because  of  its  practical  usefulness  in  computations;  the  other  is  a 
real  pulley,  because  it  may,  for  the  purpose  in  hand,  be  regarded 
as  conforming  to  the  conditions  defined  by  mechanics. 

From  the  standpoint  of  instrumentalism,  the  case  is  similar  as 
regards  reality  and  truth.  It  may  be  admitted  that,  abstractly 
considered,  we  find  a  pure  case  of  reality  only  in  the  completely 
determined,  the  object  of  absolute  knowledge.  Shall  we  then 
say  that  the  things  of  human  experience  are  merely  phenomenal, 
in  that  we  know  them  as  only  partially  determined,  or  even  be- 
cause it  is  evident  that,  were  they  known  to  us  as  completely 
determined,  they  would  thereby  become  transformed  beyond 
recognition?  Shall  we  say  that  all  human  judgments  are  essen- 
tially untrue,  because  their  correction  would  involve  an  infinite 


THE   PRACTICAL   CHARACTER   OF   REALITY  253 

process  of  thought?    Assuredly  not.     Yet  we  are  not  thereby 
committed  to  say  with  the  immediatist  that  reality  is  just  our  un- 
analyzed  immediate  experience,  and  that  the  real  nature  of  noises 
and  lines  and  events  in  no  other  than  what  they  have  been  actu- 
ally experienced  as.     For  the  assumption  that  a  given  thing 
really  possesses  the  character  we  ascribe  to  it,  implies  not  only 
that  (as  we  have  already  pointed  out)  it  has  stood  the  test  of  in- 
quiry, but  also  that  it  may  be  counted  upon  similarly  to  bear  the 
light  of  any  future  inquiry,— that  it  to  say,  no  matter  what  fur- 
ther investigation  might  reveal  about  the  thing,  what  we  know 
now  will  stand  as  an  integral  part  of  the  enlarged  knowledge  of  it. 
This  assumption,  as  we  are  ever,  upon  reflection,  ready  to  admit, 
is  erroneous;  for  we  are  aware  that  the  enlargement  of  knowledge 
does  not  take  place  by  mere  addition  to  the  existing  stock,  but 
continually  involves  the  modification  and  even  transformation  of 
that  which  has  hitherto  been  accepted  as  most  assured  and  most 
fundamental.     In  other  words,  the  untruth  of  the  assumption  is 
simply  the  untruth  which  attaches  to  any  abstraction  whatsoever, 
— the  mistake  of  supposing  that  a  partial  account  of  anything 
may  be  absolutely  true  so  far  as  it  goes.     The  fact  remains,  that 
all  our  actual  knowledge  is  of  this  sort, — an  everlasting  synec- 
doche in  which  the  abstract  poses  for  the  concrete.     The  very 
terms  in  which  our  most  certain  judgments  are  expressed  are 
themselves  only  relatively  determinate.     But  let  us  note  that 
even  as  we  demand  only  that  degree  of  flexibility  in  the  cord  of 
our  pulley  which  will  satisfy  the  requirements  of  our  purpose,  so  it 
is  only  a  certain  degree  of  determinateness  which  is  relevant  to 
the  ends  of  either  action  or  thought.     A  certain  degree  of  in- 
determinateness  is  negligible;  and,  as  in  the  case  of  the  pulley, 
just  how  much  is  negligible  depends  upon  the  specific  purpose  of 
the  application. 

And  so  we  may,  as  instrumentalists,  find  a  new  interpretation 
for  the  absolute  idealist's  definition  of  reality.  It  may  be  legiti- 
mately taken  as  a  description  of  a  'pure  case,*  or  ideal  limit, 
analogous  to  the  fundamental  formulae  of  the  mathematical  sci- 


254 


DOGMATISM   AND  EVOLUTION 


ences.     It  has  the  same  advantage  as  such  formulae,  namely,  that 
of  an  efficient  instrument  for  the  analysis  of  experience;  and  it 
has  likewise  the  same  defects.     When  it  is  exalted,  however,  into 
a  metaphysical  first  principle,  a  result  follows  which  is  analogous 
to  that  which  we  find  proceeding  from  the  similar  exaltation  of 
the  primary  definitions  of  mechanics,— that  is  to  say,  a  dogmatic 
absolutism  quite  as  sterile  when  applied  to  the  concrete  issues  of 
human  life  as  any  materialism  could  well  be.     Our  actual  investi- 
gations into  the  real  nature  of  anything  never  aim  at  the  descrip- 
tion of  this  nature  in  its  infinite  entirety.     On  the  contrary,  they 
are  always  undertaken  from  some  definite  point  of  view,  and  are 
carried  on  with  reference  to  some  specific  practical  or  theoretical 
interest ;  and  it  is  this  interest  which  furnishes  a  criterion  for  the 
success  of  the  investigation.     But  within  these  limits  the  investi- 
gation may  be  said  to  have  achieved  success,  when  the  descrip- 
tion it  furnishes  of  the  real  nature  of  the  thing  may  be  regarded 
as  if  completely  determinate;  when,  that  is,  its  indeterminate- 
ness  is  negligible  with  reference  to  the  purpose  for  which  the 
investigation  has  been  undertaken. 

Thus,  from  the  standpoint  of  instrumentalism,  both  absolute 
idealism  and  immediatism  have  erred  in  failing  to  recognize  that 
a  general  definition  of  reality  can  be  given  only  in  functional 
terms.  The  claim  of  immediatism  that  reality  changes,  and 
changes  by  virtue  of  the  process  of  knowing,  is  indeed  valid,  if  by 
it  be  meant  that  the  specific  content  to  which  the  characteristic 
'real'  attaches  changes  from  situation  to  situation,  or  from  stage 
to  stage  of  scientific  progress.  But  it  is  nevetheless  untrue,  that, 
from  the  standpoint  of  any  completed  inquiry,  the  concrete  reality 
of  that  standpoint  can  be  regarded  as  having  been  transformed  in 
the  process  of  inquiry  just  finished;  for,  as  has  been  pointed  out, 
reality  means  just  that  content  which  is  regarded  as  unchanged 

by  the  process. 

Let  me  add  a  last  word  in  comment  upon  the  claim  of  imme- 
diatism to  be  regarded  simply  as  a  method,  using  as  my  text  the 
following  declaration  of  Professor  Dewey:  "From  the  postulate 


I 


I  I 


'I 


THE   PRACTICAL   CHARACTER   OF   REALITY  255 

of  [immediate]  empiricism,  then  (or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  from 
a  general  consideration  of  the  concept  of  experience)  nothing  can 
be  deduced,  not  a  single  philosophical  proposition.  .  .  .  But  the 
real  significance  of  the  principle  is  that  of  a  method  of  philo- 
sophical analysis."!     Now,  in  the  first  place,  if  the  method  has 
even  any  prima  facie  claim  upon  our  attention,  it  must  pretend 
to  an  appropriateness  to  the  subject-matter  to  which  it  is  to  be 
applied,  and  must  hence  imply  something  as  to  the  character  of 
that  subject-matter.     The  declaration  quoted  is  parallel  to  the 
belief  of  Descartes  that  he  has  doubted  all  that  can  be  doubted, 
while  he  yet  has  firmly  in  hand  a  method  for  the  elaboration  of 
all  science.     Rather  is  it  true,  that  a  whole  philosophy  is  implicit 
in  the  assumption  of  that  method,— if  only  because  the  choice  of 
method  means  the  acceptance  of  an  ideal  of  truth,  a  standard  of 
that  which  shall  be  admitted  into  the  results.     It  may  be  said 
that  the  immediatist,  for  his  part,  is  willing  to  accept  anything 
that  experience  is  or  contains.     But,  even  so,  Descartes  is  willing 
to  accept  anything  that  can  be  demonstrated  from  self-evident 
first  principles.     The  very  conception  of  immediate  experience, 
or  of  experience  as  immediate,  implies  that  a  body  of  unequivocal 
data  are  given  and  can  be  discovered  by  inspection,— are  prior, 
that  is,  to  all  interpretation,  and  thus  form  an  unquestioned  basis 
for  all  interpretation.     It  may  well  be  questioned,  however, 
whether  this  notion  of  the  'given'  is  not  simply  another  limiting 
conception— Vike  the  pulley,  again,  or  'reality'  itself,— never  pre- 
cisely exemplified  in  any  definable  content,  though  admittedly  a 
most  useful  instrument  for  the  analysis  of  all  manner  of  experi- 

ences. 

Grace  A.  de  Laguna. 

Uournal  of  Philos.,  Vol.  II.  p.  399. 


/ 


.1 


INDEX. 


257 


INDEX 


Absolute  Idealism,  86  ff.;  essentiality 
of  relations,  88  ff.;  concrete  universal, 
93  f.;  a  philosophy  of  evolution,  95  f.; 
dialectic,  97  ff.;  compared  with  Dar- 
winism, 118  ff.;  history  of  philosophy, 
99  f.;  logic,  100  ff.;  pure  thought,  102 
ff.;  concrete  thought,  104  f.;  relation 
to  rationalism,  105,  no  f.;  prin- 
ciple of  contradiction,  105  ff.;  com- 
pared with  humanism,  225  f. 

Absolute  knowledge,  in  pragmatism,  131. 

Actual,  Hegelian  theory  of,  93  ff.;  self- 
contradictoriness  of  theory,  no; 
compared  with  immediatism,  250  ff. 
See  Thing-in-itself,  Substance,  Real- 
ity. 

Agreement,  see  Consistency. 

Aristotle,  4,  6,  23,  95,  109,  118,  155, 

156. 
Association  by  similarity,  190. 
Associationism,  53. 
Aufhebung,  94  n.,  97  ff. 
Augustine,  23,  225. 

Bacon.  3,  4,  6,  7.  10,  47.  99.  i43.  204. 
Belief,  in  pragmatism,  130,  144. 
Berkeley,  12,  14,  15,  20,  25  ff.,  48  ff., 

51.  53.  55.  60  ff.,  120,  173  ff-.  195  ff-. 

220. 
Butler,  12. 

Cantor,  18. 

Categories,  schematism  of,  76;  value  of 

Kant's  theory,  212  ff. 
Causality,  in  rationalism,  8,  52;  Hume's 

theory,   13;  modified  by  Mill,   178; 

criticism  of  concept,  227  f. 
Cogito  ergo  sum,  24. 
Comparison,  28,  128. 
Concept,  immediatist  theory  of,  240  ff. 
Concept,  general,  188  ff.;  conditions  of 

origin,  189;  compared  with  concept 


of    object,    189    ff.;    indirectness    of 
control,    192;   communicability,    193; 
Berkeley's   theory   of,    26   f.;  195   f.; 
scientific  concepts,  197  ff. 
Concept  of  object,    166  ff.;  conditions 
of  origin,  167  f.;  import,  168  f.;  con- 
tent, 169  ff.;  distinguished  from  per- 
cept and  idea,   170  ff. 
Concrete  universal,  93;  criticised,   in. 
Condorcet,  96. 
Conduct,  reference  of  thought  to,  126  f., 

205  f. 
Consciousness,  as  an  organic  function, 

125,  137  f.,  202. 
Consistency,   128;  feeling    of,    128    n., 

140;  ambiguity  of  term,  148. 
Content  and  import,  126,  162  ff. 
Critical  Philosophy,  67  ff.;  dual  con- 
ception of  truth,  67,  70;  relation  to 
rationalism,  68,  76  ff.;  thing-in-itself 
71,  80  f.;  realitas  phaenomenon,  72; 
form  and  content,  73  ff.,  79  f-;  re- 
lation to  pragmatism,  82  ff.;  perma- 
nent value  of  standpoint,  215. 

Darwin,  96,  117. 

Darwinism,  influence  ori  mental  and 
social  sciences,  117;  exception  of  logic, 
118;  compared  with  absolute  idealism, 
118  ff. 

Definition,  theory  of,  200. 

Definitions,  views  of  Bacon  and  ration- 
alists, 4;  as  principles,  8,  19. 

Descartes,  4,  5.  6,  7,  10,  16,  20,  23, 
25,  31  f-.  38  ff-.  42.  43  ff-.  56,  57.  59. 
68,  89,  90,  106. 

Dewey,   122,   127  n.,    144  n.,   171  n., 

231.  235  ff- 
Dialectic,  in  Plato,  22  ff.;  in  Hegel,  97 

ff.,  108;  pragmatist  estimate  of,  203. 
Dualism  of  form  and  content.  79. 


\ 


256 


Dualism  of  idea  and  ideatum,  in  ration- 
alism, 57,  in  empiricism,  60. 

Dualism  of  universal  and  particular,  in 
rationalism,  43  ff.;  in  empiricism,  51; 
in  Kant,  74;  in  Hegel,  109;  in  im- 
mediatism, 244. 

Elements,  simplicity  of,  30.  5^  ff-*.  ^^ 
rationalism,  30  ff-;  i"  empiricism, 
33;  in  Kant,  73  ff-;  in  modern  psy- 
chology, 120  f.;  logical  complexity 
of  psychological,  35. 

Empedocles,  21. 

Empiricism,  Part  I  passim;  debt  to 
Locke,  10  ff.;  place  of  psychology,  n; 
development  in  XVIII  century,  12; 
outline  of  Hume's  system,  12  ff.; 
Hegel's  attitude  toward,  86  ff.;  re- 
lation to  pragmatism,  120  ff. 

End,  definition  of,  136;  survival  and 
happiness,  137;  intellectual  satisfac- 
tion, 129,  139  ff-.  197  ff-  2X0. 

Epicurus,  155. 

Evolution,  in  absolute  idealism,  94. 
95  ff.;  Darwinian  theory  of,  117  ff- 
136;  in  pragmatism,  123  ff.,  148. 

Evolution  of  knowledge,  18;  unrecog- 
nized by  dogmatists,  19  f-;  in  Hegel, 
99;  in  pragmatism,  131;  its  continu- 
ity, 214. 

Experience,  in  empiricism,  12;  in  criti- 
cism, 70;  in  absolute  idealism,  103  f.; 
in  immediatism,  231  ff.,  238  ff. 

Euclid,  5,  7,  39- 

Fallacies,  interpretation  of,  17. 

First  principles,  their  nature  for  ration- 
alism, 8,  38  ff. 

Formal  logic,  validity  of  its  principles, 
159,  210  ff.;  pragmatist  estimate  of, 
203  ff. 

Forms  of  thought,  in  criticism,  73,  78  ff.; 
a  posteriori  for  Mill,  181;  in  prag- 
matism, 202  ff. 

Freedom  of  will,  226  ff. 

Geometry,  scientific  ideal  of  rationalism, 
6;  influence  on  Plato's  logic,  22;  val- 
idity of  its  principles.  159- 


God,  meaning  of,  for  rationalism,  9,  40; 
ontological  proof,  in  Descartes,  57  n.; 
in  Anselm,  57;  relation  to  world,  in 
Kant,  83. 

Hegel,  14,  40  n.,  86  ff.,  148  n.,  215, 

225  f- 

Heraclitus,  21,  96,  100,  146. 

Herder,  96. 

Historical  criticism  of  philosophy,  its 
value,  16  ff. 

History  of  philosophy,  Hegel's  concep- 
tion of,  99  ff- 

HOBBES,  4,  5,  7.  8,  9.  10.  II'  39  n.,  68. 

Humanism,  123,  133,  225  ff. 

Hume,  3, 12  f.,  20, 34  f-.  48.  50  f-  53.  55. 
60,  61  ff.,  68,  69,  72,  120,  129  n..  149. 
160,  174.  178  n.,  185,  187.  196. 

HuTCHESON,  12,  14,  20,  129  n. 

Identity  of  thing  and  percept,  55;  in 
subjective  idealism,  60  ff.;  in  realism, 
62  ff.;  criticised,  63;  in  immediatism, 

186. 

Immediacy,  reinterpreted  by  Hegel,  loi. 

Immediate  empiricism — see  Immedi- 
atism. 

Immediate    experience,     certainty    of, 

20  ff.,  243. 

Immediatism,  185  ff.,  231  ff..  Appendix 
II;  as  a  method,  254. 

Inclusion,  intensive,  in  rationalism,  37  f« 

Induction,  in  rationalism  and  empiric- 
cism,  3,  12,  104  n.;  in  Hegel,  i«4- 

Introspection,  infallibility  of,  25,  27; 
Berkeley's  method,  25  ff. 

Intuition,  8;  in  Locke,  10;  in  Plato, 
Aristotle,  Augustine,  Descartes,  23; 
in  Berkeley  and  Hume,  28  f.;  re- 
jected by  absolute  idealism,  92; 
evolutionary  theory  of,  156. 

James,  126  ff,  140  ff.,  166, 187,  Appendix 
I. 

Kant,  14. 37.  39  n.,  67  ff.,  91. 92.  95.  181, 
212  ff.,  ^28,  236. 

Language,  relation  to  general  concept, 
193  ff. 


258 


INDEX. 


Laplace,  89. 

Learning-process,  124  f.,  162  ff. 
Leibniz,  4. 6,  7.  8,  9.  i4.  i5.  39.  40.  46  n., 

58,  68.  89,  90,  91- 
Lessing,  96. 
Locke,  10  ff.,  14,  20,  26  ff.,  49.  57.  59  f-. 

149,  160. 
Logical  priority,  in  rationalism,  6,  31; 

in  Kant,  70. 

Mass,  relativity  of,  89;  identified  with 

matter,  89  n. 
Mathematics,  influence  on  philosophy, 
5  ff.,  14  f.;  ideal  of  scientific  method, 
in  Kant,  68;  validity  of  its  principles, 
155  ff.;  Hmiting  conceptions,  251  ff. 

Mandeville,  12. 

Meaning,  pragmatist  theory  of,  126  ff., 
of  concept  of  object,  166  ff.;  of  per- 
cept; 185  ff.;  of  general  concept,  190 
ff.;  immediatist  theory  of,  241  ff. 
See  Content  and  import. 

Mechanical  laws,  intuitional  or  induc- 
tive, 155  ff.;  as  conventions,  157; 
compared  with  economic  laws,  159- 

Megarian  eristic,  151. 

Mental  activity  as  conduct,  139.  209  ff. 

Mill,  J.  S.,  173  ff-.  187. 

Mysticism,  41  ff.,  94  n. 

Necessity  and  contingency,  in  ration- 
alism, 8;  in  Kant,  74  ff-;  in  Hegel, 
109;  in  humanism,  226. 

Negative  ideas,  simple,  39  ff . 

Neo-Platonism,  41. 

Newton,  90,  155,  156. 

Notions,  in  Berkeley,  28,  49. 

Objectivity,  in  Kant,  72;  in  Mill,  i73  ff- 
OsTWALD,  127. 

Parallelism,  in  Spinoza,  57. 
Parmenides,  21,  100. 
Peirce,  126,  166. 
Plato,  17,  18,  19.  21  ff.,  190  n. 

POINCARE,   156  ff. 

Pragmatic  Method,  123,  127  n.,  219  ff. 

Pragmatism,     Part     III.     Appendices; 

compared   with  criticism,  82  ff.;  re- 


lation to  empiricism,  120  ff.;  general 
estimate,  123;  as  philosophy  of  evolu- 
tion, 123,  235;  psychological  basis,  124 
ff.;  meaning,  126  ff.;  truth,  128  ff.; 
reaUty,  131  ff.;  survival  and  happiness 
as  ends,  135  ff.;  intellectual  ends, 
129,  141  ff.;  indiscriminate  account 
of  thought-function,  165;  contempt 
for  formal  logic.  202  ff.  See  Prag- 
matic Method.  Will-to-believe,  Hu- 
manism, Immediatism. 

PreestabHshed  harmony,  58,  90. 

Protagoras,  21,  24. 

Psychology,  influence  on  philosophy, 
II,  14  ff.;  empirical  and  rational,  15; 
Hegel's  attitude  toward,  87;  new 
importance  for  pragmatism,  231  ff. 

Radical  Empiricism,  see  Immediatism. 

Rationalism,  Part  I,  passim;  opposition 
to  Bacon,  3  ff.;  general  doctrines, 
7  ff.;  controversial  weakness,  38, 
39  n.,  48;  relation  to  criticism,  68,  76, 
82;  relation  to  absolute  idealism,  105 
ff ;  value  of  ideal  of  truth,  212. 

Realism,  in  Hume,  55.  62;  ascribed  to 
Mill,  173;  of  Hume  and  pragmatists 
compared,  185  f. 

Reality,  Kant's  conception  of,  71  ff-; 
pragmatist  theory  of,  131  ff-;  kinds  of 
reality  for  James,  148;  as  a  limiting 
conception.  251  ff.  See  Humanism, 
Immediatism. 

Reciprocal  determination,  principle  of, 
90,  91,  228. 

Relations,  no  ideas  of,  in  Berkeley,  49; 
essentiaUty  of ,  88  ff.,  no;  externality 
of,  36  ff.;  in  empiricism,  48  ff.;  in 
Kant,  73  ff-;  unreality  of,  37- 

Relativity,  of  perception,  21,  24,  43; 
of  motion,  space,  time,  mass,  and 
force.  88  ff.;  of  psychical  attributes, 

90. 
Representative  theory  of    ideas,  54  ff-; 
resemblance,    54.    60,   63,    186;    par- 
allelism,   55;  causal      connection    of 
thing    and     idea,     59;  rejected     by 


INDEX. 


259 


developed  empiricism.  55.  60.  61; 
place  in  system  of  rationahsm,  58;  in 
Kant,  71;  rejected  by  absolute  ideal- 
ism. 92. 

Satisfactoriness  of  an  idea,   its  truth, 
129;  theory  criticised,  139  ff- 

SCHELLING,   105. 

Scientific  laws,  nature  of  their  validity. 

142  ff.;  relativity  to  context,  I53- 
Shaftesbury,  12,  hi.  129  n. 
Spencer,  148,  156. 
Spinoza,  4.  7.  8,  19.  40.  41  ff-.  57.  58. 

68,  234. 
Stoics,  21. 

Subjective  Idealism,  55.  61  ff.,  i73  ff- 
Substance,   in    rationalism,    9,   20.  40; 

in  Locke.  10;  in  Hume,  12;  in  Kant, 

76;  in    absolute    idealism,    91-     See 

Actual. 
Sufficient  reason,  principle  of,  9- 


Survival,  136  ff- 

Synthetic  first  principles.  38  ff-.  68. 

Temperament,     as     a      philosophical 

premise.  144  ff. 
Thing-in-itself,  71,  80  ff. 

TiTCHENER,  120,  I46. 

Truth,  rationalistic  conception,  8  ff.,  67; 
hmits  of,  for  empiricism,  12;  of  in- 
trospection, 20,  24  ff;  of  intuition, 
23;  Descartes's  criterion,  23;  Kant's 
conception,  70  ff.;  Hegel's  conception 
92  f.;  pragmatist  theory,  128  ff.; 
development  of,  148  ff-  See  Repre- 
sentative theory. 

TURGOT,  96. 

Utilitarianism,  compared  with  pragma- 
tism, 140  ff. 

Values,  objectivity  of,  i34- 

Will-to-believe,  123,  133.  221  ff. 


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